


The Vanishing Castle

by SilentNorth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Curses, Howl's Moving Castle AU, M/M, Magic, Minor Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Sorcerers, all that fun stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentNorth/pseuds/SilentNorth
Summary: Akaashi tells himself that he's perfectly content with his life. And he is. Probably. But somehow he attracts the attention of some sorcerers. Not his fault. And winds up cursed. Also not his fault. And finds himself in the middle of a war he has no business being part of. What exactly did he do to deserve this again? In order to go back to any sort of normalcy, Akaashi will have to turn to magic if he's to have any hope of breaking this curse. And the Vanishing Castle is one place to start.





	1. An Abundance of Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> I said I was working on another fic and here it is. I was going to wait a bit, but then I got way too eager to start posting again. I was inspired by 'Howl's Moving Castle' for this fic as well as quite a few pieces of fanart because I love feathers and wings. Enjoy :)

The tailor shop sits near the edge of town, its back windows having the perfect view of the countryside, the Wasteland. With the work day ending, Akaashi works on tomorrow’s deliveries and pickups in the workroom where his desk resides at one of these windows. There’s not much, he could certainly put it off until tomorrow, but it’s calming, patching holes in trousers, taking in shirts, and watching the fog role in over the hills in the distance. He would call it a peaceful start to the evening if not for the ruckus his older brothers make in the main shop. They sigh in relief at flipping the sign in the front door to _closed_ , share stories of today’s particularly bothersome clients, and no doubt begin making plans for the night.

“And did you hear her?” Komi asks with a laugh. “She wants the dress brought in six more inches.”

“She says that every time,” Sarukui adds. “Another two inches here, maybe raised a bit more. I never do the full order. At this rate it’ll be a doll’s dress.”

Washio scoffs. “Did she claim she’s on another diet again?”

“Swore her son’s life on it!” Komi exclaims.

“She did that last time, too,” drawls Sarukui.

Akaashi listens to their back and forth talk with amusement, but there’s no need to join in. He’s perfectly fine hiding in here, listening in with the door propped open, just as he does everyday. His brothers are used to it. They know he likes to be left alone. Yet, as always, they feel the need to invite him everywhere. Akaashi’s just touched that they still ask even though he turns them down every time.

It happens again tonight as Sarukui taps lightly on the open door. Akaashi finishes the stitch he’s on and looks up to see his smiling face as well as the others behind him. They peer in while tossing aprons on their chairs and their grabbing jackets.

“We’re all going to get a drink,” he says. “You know, since it’s Friday. Wanna come?”

Smiling back politely, Akaashi shakes his head. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine here. I’ll finish closing up, too, so you won’t have to worry about that.”

“If you say so,” Sarukui replies and he’s about to add something else, probably that he wishes Akaashi would come out with them more often, this is a frequent occurrence as well, but the others gasp and hurry to the windows, drawing him away as well.

“Look!” Komi all but shouts. “You can see the Owl’s Castle tonight!”

“Yup, there it is.”

“You can see it right through the fog a bit.”

Akaashi squints out through his window as well and sees that they’re right. It’s not everyday that you can see it out there. Sometimes the fog covers it up completely and other times it’s simply not there. Rumor has it that it’s invisible. That’s how it earns its other name, the Vanishing Castle. For a castle, it’s not all that big, just a pinprick of white stone in the distance, but it sits on a cliff’s edge and stands out against the pines behind it.

“Maybe the Owl’s on the prowl tonight,” Sarukui whispers, trying to be spooky, but only succeeding in exciting Komi even more while Washio rolls his eyes.

“All the girls say that he’ll eat the pretty ones’ hearts right up!”

“Oh yeah?” Washio asks.

Over Komi’s eager nodding, Sarukui says, “And what girls do you talk to?”

Komi’s face flushes. “Plenty,” he says offhandedly, but then his excitement comes rushing back, “but surely it’s true! I mean, what else do sorcerers eat?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met one.”

“Well! We better be off then,” Sarukui says after one last look toward the Owl’s Castle and the Wastelands. He herds the other two to the door.

“Have a good time,” Akaashi calls after them before the door shuts and once again he’s alone and it’s quiet. A sigh breaks through his lips.

He continues working on tomorrow’s pickups until the descending sun appears in his window. A train passes below on its dugout track. It rattles the house. Akaashi waits for it to pass before carrying on with his careful work. He keeps glancing at the Vanishing Castle, trying to see if he can catch it disappearing again. But it remains, standing out as the sun’s rays bounce off it as it begins its fall. Akaashi sets his things aside. The sun’s not quite touching the hills yet, which means he has enough time to stop downtown and come back before dark.

Standing up, he abandons his desk and tosses his apron over it and his completed projects. He’ll have plenty of time to clean up when he returns. Besides, he had promised he’d close up shop. That means giving the entire place a good rub down. Can’t have it getting dusty. And Father’s supposed to visit over the weekend so the shop needs to be extra clean, just short of shining. His brothers know this, too, but they also know Akaashi will do a good enough job for all of them. It’ll look presentable for their father come morning.

They’re stepbrothers actually, all born to different mothers or brought in with the marriage. Their father goes through women like it’s going out of style. Akaashi can’t really blame him. There's always something that doesn't seem to work out. Either she was in it for the money or they just didn’t click as a family. Their father always tries though, even if he does rush into things. He blames it on being a hopeless romantic. Still Akaashi can’t find fault in him. The man may be strict, but, no matter the divorces, he stays friendly and treats each boy as his own, giving them jobs, money, whatever they need. He’ll even catch up with the majority of their mothers. Most Sundays he’s off having tea with someone. It’s always important to keep connections open, he's always told them. Just more business talk.

Akaashi’s different though. His mother died from a sickness that had washed over the city. That was years ago, when he was only a kid, and he has her tailor shop to manage now. She was one of his father’s first marriages. He had been quite successful with his business then and he was starting to buy stock in others or just the businesses themselves. This shop had been a gift to Akaashi’s mother and now a fleeting job for the other boys to pass their time. A steppingstone between more school or their booming careers, insured by their father of course.

That was the most he can remember of her. Every other memory just seems so blurry and fuzzy. He used to think about it all the time. At night, he’d sit up trying to recall his childhood, even the sound of his mother’s voice. All he got was a pounding headache.

Akaashi’s happy here though. Even though he can’t remember his mother, he still feels close to her in the shop. He contents himself now with burying into the work here in her shop. He’d be perfectly happy to sigh his way through days, all alone with a needle and thread and, if necessary, his brothers bumbling about and chatting away with gossip between clients. He’s happy in front of his little window, watching the fog and sometimes the rain, whatever the day may bring. He’s happy to be sitting here, daydreaming, wondering about the little castle in the distance.

He goes now to visit his eldest brother, Konoha. He had inherited Father’s knack for business. Once done with school, he went to pursue his dream of a bakery in the center of town and with Father’s help and Konoha’s charm, it was an immediate success. He and Akaashi used to trade off meeting each other. One Friday Akaashi would go to the bakery and the next Konoha would come up to the shop. Only recently did Akaashi find himself making runs to the bakery more and more. He didn’t mind. It’s good to see his brother’s business so popular.

Setting away his things, Akaashi goes over the shop quickly before he leaves. Just clearing away materials and tying up the trash. He’ll have time to clean everything when he returns. He won’t be out late like the others will. He tosses the day’s newspaper into the last bag of garbage. He pauses, reading the headlines.

_Sending Off Our Soldiers_

_War Begins: What This Means for You_

That’s right, he thinks. That parade is today, which means traffic. Sighing, he stuffs it into the bag. Grabbing his jacket, he opens the door and checks that the sign reads closed. He casts one last look around before heading out, locking the door behind him.

So it has come to this. There have been plenty of rumors, but to finally make the news is another thing. Of course, one can’t believe everything they read, he reminds himself.

Akaashi takes a different turn than normal after seeing a crowd of people up ahead on his route. He sighs. How troublesome.

Konoha’s shop is near the center of town, which isn’t a far walk. It’s actually quite nice on clear evenings like this with just the right amount of chill to them. The sun’s fading light throws the narrower alleyways into shadows, but those are the ones he takes. He’d rather that than risk running into people. The tailor shop isn’t as popular as Konoha’s, but plenty know of it and even more know his father. They wouldn’t think anything of stopping him for a chat. And he really doesn’t want to be stopped for a chat.

He keeps casting glances up over his shoulder to catch sight of the sunset. Many of the buildings block his view of the sky and the way the sun’s rays cast through the clouds. It’s a better view from his window, but he gathers as much of it as he can now. The pinks and purples mix in the sky and fade into blue and then darker blue, where night is beginning to loom. Akaashi spots the first star. Another turn obstructs his view even more. He turns his head to watch the ground instead, imagining what the sunset would look like from the Wastelands with no buildings to stand in the way.

The streets are emptier than usual tonight. It doesn’t bug him. Everyone is probably already at the city’s center. The parade should be finishing up by now. Then they’ll be out for the rest of the night most likely. There’s always something happening there in the thick of the town, but events such as this one are a bit more rare. Everyone who’s anyone will certainly be taking advantage of that. That’s not Akaashi though. He’ll be out and back within an hour or so.

At his last intersection, he turns straight into a large crowd. It’s more than a crowd. They’re lining the streets. People are cheering, waving flags. Eyes narrowing, he tries seeing over their heads.

Trumpets blast and the footsteps of marching soldiers thunder together down the cobblestone. The parade isn’t over yet. Akaashi’s walked into the thick of it. Bless his luck, but he’ll need to wade through if he’s to get to Konoha’s.

Someone from behind knocks into him and the crowd immediately swallows him up. Rubbing the offended shoulder, he resists the urge to curse under his breath. Instead, he politely excuses himself, trying to side step around those in his way. He just wants to reach the back of the crowd again. Maybe he can slip along the buildings. Konoha’s shop is so close. If only people would just pay attention and move.

The soldiers are being sent off tomorrow to the king’s capital. He remembers from the article he’d glanced at. It’s a big celebration. Everything is bright and cheerful. People laugh and call out to each other. War is much different than this, Akaashi thinks. Still, people will gossip over each newspaper in the coming weeks. The war is so removed, it seems almost like a fairytale in print between their fingers. Their country is just a side to root for. When the soldiers leave, will they stop being human?

This happened years ago. Akaashi can barely remember, but he does remember reading only numbers. He remembers people cheering that it was over. He remembers another town being bombed the very same night. He remembers the war dragging on for another month before it finally drew to a close officially.

It looks like the approaching war is affecting everyone. Including me, he grumbles, pushing past someone and gently stopping a child from running into him.

“Keiji! Hey, Keiji!”

Someone calls his name and he turns, not used to hearing his actual name out in public. He doesn’t recognize any of the faces around him. Besides, none are turned toward him. They all look to the street, to the parading soldiers.

Wait. Someone is looking at him. Someone with big golden eyes and bizarre looking hair and—does he know this person?

The strange man comes closer and grabs his hand and tugs him through the sea of people. It parts for them easily. Akaashi’s face scrunches up at the sudden turn of events. The stranger casts a sunny smile over his shoulder.

“They can’t see us this way,” he says, giving their joined hands a slight squeeze.

Akaashi flinches, eyes widening as it comes together, though he still allows himself to be pulled along. This man is a sorcerer! Why is he here? Why is he mixed in with regular, everyday people? Why is he helping him?

So many questions enter Akaashi’s mind, but his lips stay firmly squeezed together. A spell? He wouldn’t doubt it. The crowd might be parting for them, but the magic does nothing to lessen the noise. His voice would drown in it. He shouldn’t be talking to sorcerers anyway.

They come to a halt seconds later, though it feels like much longer, Akaashi’s perception of time skewed. Another trick, he guesses. People flow around them but never touching. Those eyes light upon his face, looking like he’d just done something clever and is expecting praise. Instead, he says, “This is where you wanted to go, right?”

Akaashi tears his gaze away to look at the building. He’s brought them right to Konoha’s shop. How did he—

“Yes,” he stutters, “but how—”

“Great!” the stranger pipes, interrupting. He stares intensely at Akaashi, looking like he wants to say just as much as Akaashi, but he doesn’t. Instead, he chirps, “See you around then!”

And before Akaashi can get another word in, the spell breaks and the crowd surges around them, as if a bubble has popped. Akaashi fights through the mass, tilting his head up to see over heads, but the sorcerer has vanished without a trace. More frustrated than anything, Akaashi gives up. Like a river, the crowd pulls at him to enter his stepbrother’s bakery.

*****

The shop is packed more than the streets, if that’s even possible. People squirm shoulder to shoulder, struggling to reach the front desk. On busy days like today, no one seems to pay heed to lines or any sense of order. Akaashi slides along the back wall, away from the direction the bodies are pushing. He sneaks behind their backs and no one spares him any attention. He cranes his neck to catch sight of his brother behind the counter.

Konoha turns from customer to customer. Young men and women reach across the counter, eager to attract his ever-fleeting attention. Konoha listens eagerly to each, turning to grab what they need from the crammed shelves behind him. He jokes and laughs with them, somehow managing to find the seconds necessary to spare on everyone he helps. Then they head off toward the register. Akaashi rolls his eyes. His brother was always such an extrovert, a people pleaser just like their father.

What a schmooze, Akaashi thinks with a faint smile.

One of Konoha’s coworkers catches sight of him. She peers above the heads, jumping a bit to see better, perhaps trying to judge the time based on the low sun that shines through the door’s window. It must be hard to see from there, the people are packed too tightly. Her eyes land on him, the only customer sticking to the back wall. Akaashi recognizes the girl, but doesn’t remember her name. He doesn’t think Konoha ever mentioned a name so he doesn’t bother worrying. She turns to Konoha, still on her tiptoes to reach his ear to whisper.

Konoha’s eyes fly up to glance around. By now, Akaashi has made his way along the side of the shop, near the door to their back storage rooms and offices. Konoha finds him, smiles, and holds up a finger. He’ll be with him in a minute.

That usually means about five, so Akaashi opens the door. He’s eager for some quiet, even if he can still hear the noise of the crowd murmuring at his back. Sighing, he settles himself on one of the windows' ledges. They line the hallway, offering a great view of the town’s center. The parade is over, but the townsfolk still remain, interspersed across the square, chatting in groups. They’ve brought a band in to play and someone’s going around lighting the lanterns. There’ll be dancing soon and then everyone will move inside for drinks and the soldiers will party away their last night in town. In the morning they’ll be shipped off.

If it were up to him, Akaashi thinks, he’d rather just sleep. Who knows what the morning might bring, but perhaps that’s why they choose to be out surrounding themselves with music and pretty girls. He frowns and turns away, just as Konoha enters.

The noise grows, leaking through the opened door, before it’s smothered once more. Konoha comes over to sit next to him. He glances out the window. Akaashi refuses to look out again at the merry people and swirling colors.

“What a busy day,” Konoha sighs, wiping his hands on his apron even though they’re already clean.

Akaashi stares at him, wondering whether or not to tell him of today’s recent events. He decides. “I think I met a sorcerer outside your shop.”

Konoha’s head whips around to face him, his eyes narrowed slightly, yet amused. Disbelieving. “What?”

“He led me through the crowd,” Akaashi says slowly, lips pursing as he remembers. “The people split to let him pass, but it was like he wasn’t there at all. Definitely magic.”

“Keiji!” Konoha gasps. It’s almost a reprimand. “He could have stolen your heart! Eaten it! What if it had been the Owl?”

Akaashi looks away from Konoha and shrugs unconcerned. “Why would he bother eating a regular person's heart?” His gaze turns out the window. He shrugs again. He casts Konoha a teasing look out of the corner of his eye. “You’ve been listening to Komi too much.”

Konoha lets out another sigh. “Look, all I’m saying is to be careful, Keiji. It’ll be dark on your way home so—”

“I know, I know,” Akaashi waves him off. “I’m perfectly capable of walking myself home.”

“Konoha!” a nervous voice trills down the hall. “We’re out of the ladyfingers. Do you know where the spare are?”

Konoha turns from Akaashi. “Sure, Yachi, I’ll get them. One moment.”

“I can see you’re busy,” Akaashi says before Konoha can say anything more to him. “I should get home.” He gets to his feet and Konoha follows.

“I’ll walk you out.” He leads Akaashi through the side exit between the storage room and kitchens. People call out to say hello. Konoha grins and waves back.

Akaashi has to remind himself not to feel disappointed. This was only supposed to be a quick visit anyway. And Konoha’s busy. What was he really expecting? He should ask how business is going, but it’s clear that it’s booming. They’re busier than ever. He’s not one to waste words. Konoha opens the door for him.

“You’re not going out with Komi and the others tonight?” Konoha asks.

Akaashi shakes his head. “They left a while ago. There’s a lot going on. They’ll have fun, but father is visiting tomorrow so I’ll have to clean up back home. They won’t be back until late.”

Konoha crosses his arms and frowns. “You need to get out more often, Keiji.”

He says it as kindly as possible, but it takes every effort for Akaashi to contain his exasperated groan. Not this again. Instead, he keeps his face pleasant. “You don’t have to worry about me—”

“But the tailor shop,” Konoha interrupts. “Is that really what you want to do for the rest of your life? You don’t want something more?”

Akaashi blinks, taken aback. “It was my mother’s,” he replies dumbly.

“I know,” Konoha says softly. “I’m sorry—just think about it, okay?”

“I will. Thank you for your concern.” He's curt with his words. As usual, he visits his brother and the most he can expect to get is a lecture. It wouldn’t feel complete without one of those. He goes to leave.

“Stop by again soon,” Konoha calls after him. “It won’t be so busy in a few days.”

The lack in business will barely make a dent. The shop is always packed in like sardines and Konoha knows that. He’s just making sure Akaashi will visit again. And he will. He can’t expect Konoha to go out of his way to visit the tailor shop anymore. He would just say that Akaashi should come to him. Complain that he needs to get some fresh air and see the town for once.

He gives a wave over his shoulder and sets out into the darkening town. His sunset is gone.

*****

Everything is dark when Akaashi returns and he has to light the candles to give enough light for him to see. He’ll have to clean the shop up and make sure it’s properly closed and locked for the night before he can move onto the house. A small courtyard separates the shop and the house that sits in the back. Both are small and can barely fit the four of them, but it takes all of them to make each month’s payment. Akaashi tries to keep their father from helping out too much. The tailor shop does well enough, some months more than others. It’s certainly not bringing in as much as the bakery, but then they’re not paying to live in the center of town. Rent is much cheaper here.

He tidies up his workroom and then turns to the rest of the shop. It’s not so bad. A quick sweep and it should be good, he thinks as he grabs his brothers' discarded aprons. Once again they missed the hook. In other words, they left them in a wrinkled mess over their chairs and Akaashi doesn’t have the time to iron them over the weekend. He hangs them neatly. He is about to grab the broom when a rap on the door interrupts him. Sparing a glance to the nearest clock, he thinks it’s much too early for them to be returning and too late for it to be anyone else.

Before he has the chance to grab the door himself, the bell above the door rings, abruptly breaking the silence. A man has entered on his own. Akaashi gets a quick look at him. He has a pretty face set with intense eyes. They seem to look right through him. Seeing the stranger, Akaashi hesitates for only a second.

“I’m sorry,” he says shortly, but offering a polite bow, his grip on the broom tightens, white-knuckled, “but we’re closed for the night. We’ll be open again in the morning if you’d like to stop by then.”

Those eyes refuse to fall on him. The stranger continues further in, ignoring Akaashi’s words and glancing around the room. His nose is scrunched as if smelling something foul. Akaashi gives a quiet sniff of his own. Nothing smells out of the ordinary.

“Not very impressive, is it?” the stranger murmurs to himself.

Akaashi bristles at the comment. He moves over to the door, forcing himself not to stomp or move as stiffly as he feels like. He opens it once more. The cool night breeze drifts in, sending gooseflesh down his arms, but he holds his ground and gestures out into the dark. “The door, sir, is over here.”

He turns slowly to face Akaashi, as if finally realizing he’s not alone. “You know the Owl, correct? I’m looking for him and I can feel his trace all over you.”

“What?” Akaashi takes a step back, standing in his own doorway now. “You’re a sorcerer.”

“Yes, yes—” he flaps his hand absently “—introductions and all that. Oikawa, and you’re Akaashi. Now, the Owl, like I said—”

“I don’t know him,” Akaashi interrupts quickly. Oikawa, he thinks. He’s heard that name before. The king exiled him to the Wastelands years ago. Akaashi thinks quickly. He’s alone in his shop with the second sorcerer he’s met today. For some reason, that’s as far as his brain can get. 

As for what to do—he’s drawing a blank. His hands tremble and his grip on the broom tightens instinctively.

Oikawa gives a dramatic roll of his eyes. “I really wanted this to be quick, too.”

Suddenly, the room shrinks in on itself until everything disappears. It is replaced by a darkness that is much thicker than night. It’s not just that the lights have gone out. Akaashi feels as though everything has vanished. If he could, he’d wave a hand in front of his face, but he can’t move an inch. It’s like he’s been steamrolled, the breath knocked clean out of him. He’s been submerged, and something awfully chilly crawls down his back, prickling his skin. The hairs on the back of his neck stand.

It only lasts for a few seconds, but to Akaashi it feels like hours. When the room returns, the gentle candles' lighting nearly blinds him. He throws up a hand, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He’s alone in the room.

“I promise, you’ll give him up eventually.” Oikawa’s voice sounds far away yet echoes within Akaashi’s head. He’s nowhere to be seen. “When you see him, give Bo my love, will you?”

The heaviness in the air lessens. Akaashi feels like he can breathe again. It seems Oikawa’s presence has vanished. He is alone again.

He feels battered. Breathless. Bruised all over. He rubs his hands roughly over his face and freezes. Something feels off. Very off.

With slow steps, he approaches the nearest mirror. There’s plenty of them around for customers. He doesn’t have to go far.

And there he stands. The same as always.

But so very different. That’s not him.

Feathers.

He draws in a slow breath and approaches close enough so that he can reach out and touch the pane of glass. His fingers smudge the glass where they settle and shake. Its coolness soaks into him until he’s shivering again and the trembling moves up his arms. His heart flutters like a bird and he feels lightheaded.

Very slowly, he reaches his other hand up to touch his cheek. Fingertips ghost over his skin. Feathers. Real feathers. They’re black and sprout all over his flesh, tiny and delicate pieces of down. His skin twitches as he skims over them. They’re actually a part of him, attached.

The feathers aren’t thick, they’re tiny, some barely there. They contrast against his quickly paling face. He breathes hard, trying to take this all in.

He quickly unbuttons his shirt, not caring that it crumples to the floor at his feet. His forehead is pressed against the mirror now. His breathing steams the glass and obscures his face. This isn’t him. This is a monster that belongs to the Wastelands. Not human. Not the owner of this tailor shop. Certainly not him.

The feathers continue down his neck. They settle slightly thicker around his collarbone and spread down his arms and across the expanse of his chest. He runs his hands over them. They’re so soft and he’s breathing too fast.

He backs away from the mirror, hands back to his face. Fingers pinch and pull and it hurts worse than if he were plucking hair from his head. The small feathers float to the ground. More appear. They fluff out. An animal instinct. And he feels like an animal. Backed into a corner, only nothing is actually cornering him. He can feel the feathers lifting off his skin.

He wants it to stop.

His vision tunnels and he swings his head around to catch a glimpse of his back. He’s spinning. The room’s spinning. The candles' flames blur everything. They smear the room like paint. He tries to get a grip.

This is what he gets for getting mixed up with sorcerers.

The dam breaks. All the questions and fear and anger are unleashed on his brain. He catches the anger, holds onto it. For some reason, it’s the only feeling that spikes. His heart beats faster, his face flushed.

Fists clench, as if physically trying to hold onto the anger. He glances down through blurry eyes. His nails are black and growing long. The feathers are thick now, traveling up his arm. He can barely see his pale flesh.

He backs into the mirror on shaky legs. It falls with a crash and shatter. Akaashi disappears back into darkness, far, far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm totally winging this fic ;) 
> 
> I mean, I totally have a plan, I spent all weekend making an outline, but I'm just gonna let it pull me along and see where we go.
> 
> Have a great rest of your week, guys!


	2. A Peculiar Journey Begins

Wherever it is that Akaashi goes is a tricky place and not as dark as he originally thought. Where he goes to, Akaashi has no idea, but he certainly isn’t in the tailor shop anymore. If anything, he might be somewhere in his own head. That thought makes him only more fearful. Perhaps this is a part of whatever Oikawa has done to him. The curse.

It blurs like a passing dream, all in slow motion, yet happening too fast to really see. Flames flicker all around him, as if reflecting off of something, reminding him of mirrors. They stretch about him endlessly. There’s no way to tell where anything begins and ends because it’s all the same. He doesn’t remember breathing, but he remembers running as fast as his feet can take him. They don’t make a sound on the floor, which also seems to not exist.

The only sound is far off. He can’t even be sure it’s there. Crying. Maybe a small boy. For some reason, it drives him mad. Maybe that’s why he started running in the first place. Trying to escape the droning noise. It carries on and on, only pausing for a gasping breath.

And Akaashi wants it to stop. The sound drives a bolt of pain into his chest and so he runs, and the crying grows faint. He keeps running straight and just as the noise begins to fade, it comes back, growing louder as if he’s drawing nearer. And the pattern continues.

He can’t tell how long he is there, wherever this place is, but suddenly it melts away, and he comes back. Quickly, it wanes like a dream.

*****

He’s gasping when he’s finally able to wrench open watery eyes. He can’t see clearly at first. It reminds him too much of the dream—if it was a dream—but he’s starting to forget it all like water washing away dirt.

All too quickly, Akaashi is faced with the room in front of him. His eyes clear to fully take in the disaster he has unknowingly caused. The mirror has tipped over and shattered. The edges are speckled with blood. He finds more smeared on the opposite wall, ruining the always-pristine whiteness. The vase sitting next to the door has toppled as well, along with its table. The vase is cracked in pieces, spilling dirt, roots, and flower petals across the wooden floor.

At least it’s wood, his mind so helpfully suggests. It won’t be hard to clean up. That doesn’t raise his spirits much.

Akaashi can’t allow himself to wait much longer. He’s worried about thinking too much, so he attacks the room with more vigor than he had earlier with his cleaning. He glares down at the claws that protrude from his fingers. They’re a dull gray and splinter the broom’s wooden handle in his tight grip. They seem to grow and shrink along with his frustration, but he can’t be sure. It could just be his eyes playing tricks on him. His flurry of sweeps sends dirt into the air and so he coughs through his work. Black feathers swirl into the mix of dirt. He finds them everything.

The vase will have to go. It and the dirt and feathers get tossed out into the garbage in the shop’s side street. From the basement, Akaashi finds white paint. Hard scrubbing does little to the dirty walls, so he quickly covers it up with a fresh coat of paint.

The mirror he ponders over last. In the end, he carefully sweeps up the glass and tries his best to hide it in their garbage. Hopefully no one will find it and come to him asking questions. The shop is back to looking mostly normal. There are plenty of other mirrors and maybe there’s still a thin layer of dust somewhere that he’s missed, but no time to worry over it now. It’s too late. Soon his brothers will be home and it will look much too suspicious to be awake. Surely his father won’t notice, or at least not call attention, to anyplace he’s missed. They probably won’t be in the shop much anyway. They usually go out.

Akaashi closes himself inside his workroom for the moment, taking account of the physical damage that has caused the blood. The glass has shredded through his socks and ripped apart his feet. The cuts are shallow and still bleed. He takes scrap clothing to quickly bandage them up. Then he finds that his hands are sliced up a bit as well. They get the same treatment. He just needs to stop the blood for now, quit making messes everywhere he goes. Cleaning the wounds will have to come later.

Quickly, he returns to the main room. With a wet rag in hand, Akaashi scours for any drops of blood that he might have overlooked. That cloth gets hidden within the garbage as well.

Finally, he can lock up shop. It’s past midnight and all the neighbors’ lights are out. Either they’re in bed or still out celebrating the big day. Arms crossed tightly around himself, Akaashi sulks hurriedly across the courtyard to the house where he flies up the steps without even turning on the lights. He leaves the lights off in his room as well. He knows where everything is, enough so that he tosses a blanket over the only mirror. It’s just a small one, for getting ready each morning, but he doesn’t want to risk seeing his reflection again and setting off whatever happened back in the shop. Plus he plain just doesn’t want to see his face again.

“This isn’t so bad,” he murmurs to himself as he gets ready for bed. It’s dark and he can’t see a thing. “If I just don’t look at myself, I could be perfectly normal. Like nothing even happened.”

He sits awake in bed, cross-legged, not even lying down. He hears his brothers enter. They creep by his door so as not to wake him. However, there’s no risk, he’s wide awake. He waits for the house to fall back into silence. He waits some more. He ponders what he’ll tell them in the morning. He wonders how his father will take it.

“Messy, messy, messy,” he whispers. Best to avoid it altogether.

He sits until dawn’s pink light filters into his room and he makes up his mind.

*****

Akaashi doesn’t own a wide arrange of personal items, so when it comes time to leave, he can pack light, just lunch for the road. He has no idea how long it will take for him to get to wherever it is he’s bound. Hindsight, maybe he should’ve packed more food.

This is all completed before the sun has broken over the horizon. His brothers are still asleep, but, despite their late night, they’ll be up soon enough. There’s the shop to open, which isn’t a one-man job, despite how much Akaashi knows they wish they could ask him to do it some days. Their father will also be here before long. He’s an early riser, so the boys will definitely need to be up to face the day soon. They’ll just have to power through their hangovers, Akaashi thinks. And they’ll just have to make it without him. Somehow. It shouldn’t be hard.

He’s downstairs when he hears the first movements from above. Someone’s alarm clock goes off. Something thuds to the floor, probably the alarm clock. And tired feet shuffle about to the only bathroom.

Soon they’ll be yelling at each other to hurry up, to get out and share the bathroom. The morning haze will lift and suddenly they’ll remember the urgency of getting ready for the day, particularly this day. They’ll probably be banging on Akaashi’s door, too. Or maybe they’ll just assume he’s already in the shop setting up. Akaashi won’t be around to find out.

Before they can come down, Akaashi quietly lets himself out the front door, locking it behind him. He leaves the tailor shop alone and instead heads for the gate in the side alley street. Everything is as well as it can be for their father’s visit. The rest is up to his brothers. He had left a hastily scribbled message on the counter saying that he was sick and not to disturb him. Whether or not they’ll listen, Akaashi has no idea. If not, it’s up to them to decide what to do when they find he’s not there. He’ll be long gone by then.

He pulls his hood up over his face. It limits his vision, but he’ll keep his eyes on the ground and rely on that. Can’t risk anyone seeing him. He enters the street, tense and ready to start avoiding anyone he sees, lest he stumbles upon a familiar face. However, the streets are empty. He’s forgotten how early it is.

Already close to the outskirts of town, he doesn’t have far to go. Normally, he’d hop on a trolley, or grab the train, but the less people he sees, the better. At least he doesn’t have to cut through the center again like yesterday. No doubt, some festivities will still be in play as the soldiers actually depart. Still, without a trolley, it will take him a while before he can put the town behind him for good.

By the time the brick roads turn to dirt and the buildings thin to small, sparse cottages, the sun is well above the hills in front of him. The shops he leaves behind are just opening up. Give it a few minutes and there will be plenty of customers drawn to the streets or heading to their work someplace else. Saturday is a busy shopping day. Akaashi’s glad to have missed the rush.

He passes the last cottage and its cute little gate that circles it, signaling he’s officially gone beyond the town’s limits.

He feels like he can finally breathe again. A weird calm envelops him.

But then comes the trouble of knowing where to go next. He just figured he’d head into the Wastelands. No other place is truly suited for monsters such as what he’s become. But what he’ll find in the Wastelands is left completely up to his imagination. As wild as that can get, he leaves the thoughts be and focuses instead on the uphill climb. It won’t be easy on a dirt road. All that’s left ahead of him is a few farms, then he’ll truly be alone in the Wastelands.

Glancing down at a feathered hand, he realizes the idea of the wilds ahead doesn’t scare him as much as he had thought it would last night. He ploughs onward. It’s about time for his father to be arriving at the shop, he thinks. He won’t miss Akaashi much. He’ll be just as eager to spend his attention on his other, healthier sons. Akaashi’s sure.

He stops to take a breather off to the side of the road. His hands rest on his knees. He’s worked up quite a sweat. Shading his eyes from the sun, he glances ahead. There’s still quite a ways to go. He should’ve known that this trek would be nearly impossible on foot. And where exactly does he think he’ll get by the end of the day.

He decides to worry about that later like everything else.

Sighing at the fact that he’s landed himself in yet another predicament, he pushes on.

It’s not long before he hears a wagon creaking up on him from behind. It’s nearly afternoon. Perhaps it’s one of the farmers on his way back from his weekend shopping.

Akaashi stops again. Hiding his hand in his sleeve, he reaches out an arm to wave the man down. Without looking up, he listens to the horse’s hoof beats slowing to a stop. The wheels crunch along the dirt until they halt beside him. Akaashi keeps his head down.

“Are you heading along the way very far?” he inquires, keeping his voice polite. He resists the urge to look up. He feels he’s lacking in manners, but the last thing he needs is for someone to find out he’s cursed. Then no one will help him.

The farmer must nod, his shadow flickers with movement. “Aye, are you as well?”

“I am,” Akaashi says. “Could I ride on the back of your wagon?”

He takes a moment to respond, maybe looking Akaashi over as much as he can. Finally, he asks, “And what’s your business all the way out here.”

Akaashi swallows on a dry throat. “Visiting a brother,” he says shortly. “He lives just a ways past where you’re heading.”

“Alright then. There’s room for you in the back.”

Akaashi settles himself on the back of the wagon, squished in, his feet hanging off. All of the farmer’s purchases bang into him as the wheels rock the wagon along over the uneven road. He watches the sun move across the sky as they go. The town slowly inches further and further away. The wagon is too noisy for conversation and he’s glad for the silence. Everyone is always up for gossip around here, including farmers. Sometimes they are the most gossip hungry, living so far away from the town. They gather as much as they can when they visit to bring home to their wives. Akaashi can practically feel the questions bubbling in the man’s head behind him.

The sun has its peak when the wagon is turned down a short lane, approaching a blue and white farmhouse. A woman comes down to meet them. Akaashi makes sure to keep his face down as he jumps off. The farmer looks up from greeting his wife as Akaashi nears to thank him.

“You’re continuing on still?” he asks, bewildered.

Akaashi nods.

“But to go into the Wastelands,” the wife murmurs. “That’s crazy!”

Her voice is lowered, as if Akaashi won’t hear so she doesn’t offend him. She keeps her head bowed so as not to look at him. She’s not that quiet.

“My brother only lives a bit further. Thank you very much for the ride.” He reaches a hand into his pocket for the few coins he has on him. The farmer waves him off.

“No need. I was heading along this way anyhow.”

Akaashi thanks him again before turning back to the road. Behind him he hears the couple continue their murmuring. A suspicious figure heading to the Wastelands is enough gossip. Surely it will make quite a lively conversation at dinner. They can take bets how long they think he’ll last before a monster gobbles him up. Or a wizard takes his heart.

The evening air is warm enough still, so it must be those thoughts that send chills throughout his body.

He doesn’t spot one of these so-called monsters until he’s wondered deep into the Wastelands. It’s been quite a few miles since he left the farmer, but he can’t be sure. Off to the right, he sees a group of animals. From a glance, they look just like a herd of deer, but then one lifts its head and the others follow, wondering what’s caused the disturbance. Akaashi takes a quick breath and his stride takes him to the farther side of the road. The deer are orange-like in color and their necks stretch twice as long as any deer he’s ever seen. Their tails are longer, too. There must be about ten of the creatures all gathered together. He doesn’t stick around longer to count.

But just up the road he spies three more. They look just like the others at first, but Akaashi sees that they have shorter necks and darker fur. They turn their heads to watch him pass and he sees they’re flat, almost squashed in, faces with forward facing eyes. Akaashi hopes under his breath that they don’t follow him. He’s in luck, their attention turns to the herd he’d already passed and they continue their prowl.

He runs into other strange creatures. They are free to roam here without any human intervening. To them, Akaashi probably looks like he belongs here, he thinks. Perhaps that’s why they leave him be.

He finds a group of wild dogs with horns on their noses. They appear out of the tall grass and trot across his path, not even sparing him a glance. They disappear back into the grass on the opposite side. Off in the distance a couple hours later, he spies a large creature that could be considered a bear. Except a fanning, black and white tail lifts up from the grass. It looks skunk-like. Too far away, that’s the only abnormality he can see.

Either there’s magic in the water or these are all cursed creatures, destined to live out their days in the Wastelands with every other damned thing. Akaashi’s willing to bet on the latter.

He keeps up his quick pace until he’s put the beasts far behind him and the farmhouse even farther. The sun has gone lower in the sky. It’s his stomach that makes him halt at last, forcing Akaashi to remember he hasn’t eaten all day. He finds a good enough rock to sit on, checks that there are no monsters around to interrupt him, and unwraps his lunch, though it’s nearly dinnertime.

Finally feeling comfortable enough, he pushes his hood back and gazes down at the buildings below him. There’s just grass here. Off the road, it rises to his thighs, but soon the road will take him into the trees. Who knows what he’ll find there, probably more monsters. So he appreciates what might be his last view of his town.

“I’ve traveled all day and it’s still right there,” he murmurs around a mouthful of his sandwich. “I’ve barely gone anywhere.”

His voice must have spooked something because the words are hardly out of his mouth when he hears a wild thrashing sound behind him. The surprise sends him to his feet instinctively, ready to flee back to the safety of the road. However curiosity drives him toward the sound.

There’s a young pine, not far from where the tree line begins. It’s thin and bent nearly in half. The movement comes from near its roots, in-between the spindly branches. The tree bobs with the frantic thrashing.

Akaashi would never approach a wild animal like this. Never. He has common sense after all. Especially after seeing all those beasts before. But perhaps the curse has taken away any of his fear. That or made him stupid. He doesn’t ponder further as he ducks under the branches to get a better look at what’s trapped.

Tangled between the high grass and the pine’s branches, Akaashi finds a large dog. He can’t be sure of the breed. It’s too obscured. There’s a rope mixed in with the mess and has somehow become a knotted mess between branches and tightens about the dog’s neck as it struggles.

“What a cruel trick,” Akaashi says, trying to calm the dog with a gentle tone. Though it could be a child’s idea of fun, given the dog’s size, he wouldn’t put it past the dog to get itself into this mess. “If you lie still, I’ll help you,” he continues when the dog keeps up its thrashing, strangling itself even more. He risks setting a gentle hand on its side.

This seems to work. Whether the gesture or his words, the dog calms and lies still, panting.

“There, good dog,” he says, reaching a shaky hand for his belt knife. He’s never been especially fond of dogs, especially big ones like this. He can feel his heart beating hard in his chest. The dog whuffs at him when he hesitates too long. As if reminding him that it’s still here.

Well, I’m already involved, he thinks and dives right in. With his knife, Akaashi saws at the lengths of rope he can reach. The knife is terribly dull, but it works well enough. The dog fidgets under his hand and more than once he has to tell it to keep still.

“If you don’t, I might nick you,” he says, hoping that threatens the dog into keeping still. If it can even understand him, that is.

Somehow, it listens and lies motionless except for its heavy breathing, allowing Akaashi to find the right rope and cut it. The tension suddenly releases from the trap. The pine swings upward, shaking needles down onto Akaashi’s head. The dog scrambles free and joyfully plunges into the grass.

It’s a greyhound, Akaashi sees as he straightens, getting a better look at the dog. Seeing Akaashi, it gallops toward him, tongue lolling. When it nears, it prances up onto its hind legs, eagerly showing off its excitement. Perhaps even thanking Akaashi, if it’s smart enough for that. Nervously, Akaashi holds his hands out, hoping to keep the dog from jumping on him. Up on its hind legs, it’s almost as tall as he is.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re grateful, but there’s no need for thanks,” Akaashi says as the dog continues to run around him. He glances longingly to the road, searching for an escape. “I’ll just be on my way then.”

He carefully steps around the greyhound and heads back to the road. The dog gives an imploring whine as it slinks off after him. Casting a look over his shoulder, Akaashi scowls.

“Please don’t follow me,” he says strictly. If anything, perhaps the dog will heed to the tone of his voice. “As you can see I have enough problems going on right now and it would be much easier if you didn’t add to them.”

The greyhound sits, cocks its head at him, and then gives a wave of its whip-like tail. Its mouth opens similarly to a grin. The dog begins following him again, even turning on the road to stick close to Akaashi’s heels. Sighing deeply, Akaashi realizes the dog won’t be deterred.

After passing through the trees, which part to allow the path entrance, the temperature drops and the sun disappears behind the leafy branches. The only light that escapes through speckles the ground and gives off a green hue to the air around them. Akaashi sniffs the air. It’s stuffy in here, despite the chill, but the forest doesn’t seem too dangerous, as long as they stick to the path. It carves neatly through the trees as if magicked to keep it from overflowing with undergrowth. Akaashi assumes it has. There’s no one around for acres and certainly no one would come all this way just to clear a forest path. Nobody hikes out here except witches and wizards so it’s them that must keep it.

Fear still seems to evade him. It’s a pleasant enough evening. If he pretends he’s just taking a stroll, then there’s nothing to worry about. Only a small thought tugs at the back of his mind, asking what he’ll do when night falls. He keeps ignoring it.

The dog on the other hand appears to be skittish. It stays much too close to Akaashi, even tripping him up from time-to-time when its paws tangle with Akaashi’s feet. He scowls again and keeps trying to push the dog away. Like a magnet, the dog is drawn close again in no time.

Finally, Akaashi sighs and comes to a stop. The dog halts as well and sits obediently next to him. “Look, dog, if you want to stick around, you’ll have to be useful.”

The dog perks up, its ears lifting slightly. It gazes intelligently at Akaashi and the look makes Akaashi’s skin crawl. Perhaps it’ll actually listen then if it’s told to do something.

Crossing his arms, he rubs them absentmindedly in the cold, trying to think of some task for the dog. He can feel his feathers fluffing up under his sleeves at the treatment. This makes him stop.

“Do you think you can find some place for us to stay tonight?” Akaashi asks at last.

The dog lets out a quiet huff, as if afraid to make too much noise here beneath the trees. Akaashi’s glad for it. He’s not scared, but he doesn’t want to draw more creatures’ attention like he had with the dog. Then, with its tail no longer hiding between its hind legs, the dog turns and trots quickly up the path and around the bend and disappears. Akaashi sighs again, but this time in relief. He’s finally on his own.

“Hopefully it’ll get lost and won’t find its way back to me,” he mutters under his breath as he starts again.

The forest path rises before him, growing steeper even than the dirt road that seems so far behind him now. The climb makes him pant hard. He can feel the sweat dripping down his back and he plucks at the shirt, trying to air it out so his feathers don’t stick together quite so uncomfortably.

Everything’s a mess. He’s such a long way from home in the middle of some forest trail in the Wastelands. And night is approaching quickly. Why did things have to go so wrong last night? What was Oikawa even doing in the shop anyway?

“He’s supposed to be banished to the Wastelands,” Akaashi puffs as he stops to catch his breath. And now he has banished himself to the same fate.

He feels the small feathers plastered to his face. He wrinkles his face to try and unstick them

Starting again, he must climb on all fours, dragging himself over rocks and gripping tree roots to haul himself up. At the top of the short climb, the path continues upward, but at a more manageable angle.

He prepares himself to push on and laughs a little at the strain this has all caused him. “Not really in shape now, am I.”

Once the path has leveled out, Akaashi notices the sun’s draining light through a thin patch of branches. Squinting ahead, he comes to the conclusion that the only good sending the dog off has done is assure him that he’ll be spending the night alone out in these woods. The dog might’ve been annoying, but at least it would’ve offered some company. Even protection, he thinks. The dog seemed to like him well enough.

Movement further up the path startles him. His eyes widen in surprise before settling back into a squint, trying to see through the growing gloom. He swears under his breath. It’s that damn dog again.

“I thought you wouldn’t find your way back.” He kind of hopes the dog can’t understand him. He doesn’t want to sound mean, but the last thing he needs it to worry about whatever problems this dog has attached to it. Still, he can’t help feel even the slightest bit of relief that it has returned.

The dog dances on its paws before him, the tail wagging for the first time since they’d entered the forest.

“I’m guessing you found something then?”

It runs off again, but stops further up the path, turning to be sure Akaashi’s following.

Akaashi starts off after it. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

They don’t go far. The round another bend and there’s a break in the trees. Akaashi steps out into the open where the wind blows heavily, pulling at his hair and jacket. He crosses his arms again to fend off the evening’s cold.

The two of them have stepped out onto a cliff. The trees cut off, allowing for a large clearing, but it stands empty. Something familiar tugs at the back of Akaashi’s mind as he approaches the edge of the cliff. It drops down a ways where the grass waves in the dimming twilight below. It’s thinner down there and the ground is rocky, joined to the cliff side. He spots the town further away now in the distance.

The dog comes over to stand next to him, still wagging its tail proudly for some reason. Akaashi looks down at him with a raised brow.

“Are you feeling good about yourself then? You’ve brought us nowhere.”

It continues its happy panting and bounds back over toward the clearing. It turns and waits for Akaashi to join, a paw raised. Eventually, he has no choice but to trudge over to it.

“What?” he asks.

Seeming to shrug, the dog lays down and closes its eyes. Akaashi stands over it for a while, trying to figure out what it wants. This may be a perfectly fine place for a dog to sleep, but not so much for him. Sure, he has his feathers now, but they don’t offer much for warmth. Not like a greyhound’s coat. But perhaps beasts must sleep out in the open here. It’s not like he has much of a choice.

The dog peeks an eye open as Akaashi settles himself nearby and curls up, trying to keep as warm as possible. After a moment he feels the dog push up against his back. He wants to push it away, but it’s at least something warm so he allows it and falls asleep as the sky begins to darken.

*****

“What do you think it is? Some kind of monster? A demon?”

Something soft prods his cheek and Akaashi hears scuffling as whatever it is moves quickly away.

“Shoyo, don’t! He’s cursed.”

“So? It’s not like curses are contagious.”

“It’s still dangerous,” comes the murmured reply.

Akaashi groans and rolls onto his back. Opening his eyes, he finds a starry sky stretched out above him. It must be some time past midnight, he assumes. Turning his head, he finds two cats, though they’re more like kittens, staring at him intensely. The full moon above them makes them easy to see in the dark. The smaller one is orange, probably the brightest orange cat he’s ever seen. It can’t be natural, he figures. The other is a more normal-looking cat. It’s calico with black, white, and faint yellow patches. This one isn’t much bigger.

“Talking cats?” he murmurs sleepily, still not fully awake. “The dog I met earlier didn’t talk.”

“A dog?” the orange cat pipes.

Akaashi pushes himself into a sitting position, looking down on the pair of cats. They continue with their wide-eyed stares that glow with the moonlight. “Yes, speaking of which—” he glances around for the greyhound “—where did it wonder off to?”

While the calico cat lifts its small pink nose into the air to sniff, the orange one gives a slow shake of his head. “I don’t sense a dog anywhere near here.”

Sighing, Akaashi feels his shoulders slouch. The dumb dog has gone and gotten himself lost, maybe for good this time. “It’s for the best,” he mutters to himself. Like all of the animals he’s seen in the waste, the greyhound probably has a curse, too, and the last thing Akaashi needs is another one of those to deal with.

“So who are you?” the orange cat demands. He puts on a brave face, but his fur is puffed out to try and make him twice his size. Akaashi remembers his feathers doing the same thing last night when he was afraid.

Akaashi turns back to the cats. “My name’s Akaashi.”

“So are you cursed or what?”

“Shoyo, don’t. You know he can’t say, even if he is.”

“What kind of creatures are you?” Akaashi asks before their bickering can continue. “Magical?” Everything he’s seen looked wild, not intelligent like these two, or even the dog.

The orange cat laughs. “We’re not cursed, if that’s what you’re asking. We’re practicing our magic.”

“Disguises,” the other adds shortly.

“I’m Hinata and that’s Kenma.” He points with his tail. “We live here.”

Akaashi takes that moment to look up and he gasps. It’s none other than the Vanishing Castle. Though it’s hardly more than a pinprick from his workroom window, he’d know it anywhere. Too many days he spent with nothing else to stare at. He thought this place seemed familiar, and that was just a few hours ago. That must mean the Owl is around. Certainly he won’t take the heart of a monster like him. There’d be no point, right? He had put up a brave front for Konoha, but now he feels his fear starting to leak back in. Perhaps that wasn’t part of the curse after all.

Up close, it’s no as big as he had thought it might be. The castle is made of white stone and though Akaashi wouldn’t call it filthy, it could definitely be cleaner. There’s a simple wooden door that marks the entrance. It stands tall with maybe three or four stories that rise crookedly past the trees. Parts of it are slanted while others just seem to defy gravity and cut outward before shooting upward again. He can’t understand how it can be standing. It seems like a great wind could knock it right over. The roof tiles are blue gray and rise to a point. Beyond, Akaashi spots the stars again. It stands out brilliantly here on the cliff. Being right beneath it like this, makes the castle look even more amazing.

He turns his gaze back toward the town. It glimmers faintly in the dark. He’s not used to being on this side looking back at it from the castle and he never thought that in a million years he’d find himself standing here next to it.

Hinata interrupts his gaping. “You were sleeping on our doorstep.”

“Yes, I was looking for a place to stay the night,” he replies.

The orange cat gives him an odd look, tilting his head. “Well then you should’ve just knocked!”

Akaashi stares incredulously right back at him. “There was nothing here.”

“Hmm,” Hinata hums and he’s about to open his mouth to speak again with Kenma cuts him off.”

“Whatever. We just came out here to tell you to go away.”

Akaashi can feel his feathers prickling under his clothes. He frowns at the two cats, trying to think of where to go now. It’s the middle of the night after all. If only the dumb dog hadn’t led him here in the first place. Why would he find help in the Vanishing Castle?

“Kenma,” Hinata whines, kneading his paws into the ground, “that’s rude. We should let him in. The castle showed up for him, right?”

“Only after he fell asleep,” Kenma grumbles.

“Still!” Hinata says as if that decides the problem. “We should let him stay. Just for tonight!”

Kenma stares down at his paws. “If you get Kuroo mad, I’m not taking the blame for you.”

Whirling eagerly toward Akaashi, Hinata seems to grin. Akaashi’s not too sure since he’s never seen an animal with such a strong expression on its face.

“Come on then!”

The two cats take off toward the castle’s entrance. Their images blur and suddenly they become human, two kids and not very old. He didn’t know such kids could work magic. Akaashi thought only witches and wizards worked magic and stole people’s hearts and sucked out souls. These kids seem nothing like that at all. They disappear inside, leaving the door swinging open for Akaashi to follow.

He feels the full force of his fear now, as if it’s all been saved up today. Bottled in order to break free in this specific moment. Akaashi gets to his feet, feeling very small. Taking a deep breath, he enters the Owl’s Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having so, so much fun writing this. Just all the tiny details and dialogue is just a blast. I hope you all are enjoying it, too!
> 
> Thank you all for the kind reviews and kudos!
> 
> You can reach me on my tumblr as well: [silentmarco](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com/)


	3. In One Way, Out Another

Standing beneath the Vanishing Castle had taken his breath away, however, now that he had stepped through the front door, the castle’s inside has the opposite effect. It’s a small room, cramped into being both a kitchen and sitting room. There’s a sink to the left of the door with a tiled counter. It looks blue, but Akaashi can’t be sure beneath the grime, yet all the food cupboards are in the opposite corner. Clearly this room wasn’t meant to be convenient in the slightest. Further along the left wall, a hearth sits with a small fire going. It’s puffing weakly and looks like it might go out at any second. Sitting in front of it is a chair, though one probably wouldn’t get much warmth. They would have to sink their hands into the fire to warm them. A scratched up, wooden table has been pushed back toward the cupboards, clear from the marks along the floor. It looks heaped with junk.

Other than looking just plain filthy, the room hardly looks lived in, at least to Akaashi’s eyes. He can’t imagine a normal person actually using the space. But then he must remind himself that he’s amongst wizards now. What he thinks of as normal doesn’t apply here.

He waves a spider web out of his way as he steps in, closing the door behind him. Through the gloom, he finds Hinata and Kenma again and finally gets a decent look at the boys. They are similar to their cat disguises. Hinata’s bright orange hair matches his fur and he’s short, even for a young boy. Kenma has the same eyes as his cat appearance and his hair looks like it had once been dyed blonde, but now has been left to grow out instead of dying it back. His roots are black.

Hinata grins and waves him over.

“Look!” he says, pointing at a couch. It sits beneath a dusty window to Akaashi’s right. “The Castle wants you to stay!” He looks to Kenma and sticks out his tongue. “See? I told you.”

Akaashi stares at the couch. It’s brown and has stuffing poking out of ripped seams. There’s even a spring loose and sprouting through one of the cushions. He fails to see the importance of this couch. “What do you mean?” he asks, feeling like it’s a dumb question.

“We didn’t have a couch before,” Kenma answers, wandering away as if Akaashi and the couch no longer interest him.

“You can sleep there,” Hinata says before turning to follow Kenma. They mount the stairs that rise just beyond the hearth. “Good night!”

They’re gone before Akaashi can reply. When he looks back at his new sleeping arrangements, he finds an afghan now laid along the back of the couch. That certainly wasn’t there a second ago. He supposes he’ll just have to get used to this whole magical business. He settles himself as comfortable as he can get, avoiding the cushion with its bobbing spring. With the fire as low as it is, the night’s chill has snuck through the castle’s walls, slipping in under the door. Akaashi pulls the afghan over him. It’s a dull green color and looks as appealing as the couch, but it will do for the night.

*****

The front door opening wakes Akaashi, even though it feels as though he’s only shut his eyes for a few seconds. It’s pushed hard enough to clack against the wall. Akaashi cracks open blurry eyes, but sees no one there, only the early dawn light floating through as well as dust, disturbed into the air by the sudden movement. He pushes himself up on his elbows in time to see a large black cat strolling by. It has to be at least twice as big as an average housecat. Without looking at Akaashi, it jumps up onto the couch’s armrest. Akaashi follows his gaze to find Hinata and Kenma sitting at the table in the corner reading through loose pieces of parchment. They had hardly looked up when the door opened.

“So when did you two get a new pet?” the black cat asks. His voice is much deeper than the boys’ so Akaashi guesses—whatever it is—it’s older than the kids.

“Last night,” Hinata chirps without looking up, staring intently at whatever he holds. He doesn’t even bother to correct that Akaashi is most definitely not a pet.

Though the door is already open, another force knocks it clattering back against the wall. Akaashi flinches at the sound and looks away from the black cat.

“A new pet?” asks a new voice eagerly.

Akaashi finds a man standing in the doorway, arms spread wide as he holds the door open and braces himself against the frame at the same time. While Akaashi is relieved to finally meet someone human out here in the Wastelands, the stranger’s appearance is still outlandishly wild. So much so that another talking animal might have been simpler and easy to take in.

Plus, to his greater confusion, he finds the man he had met near Konoha’s bakery. Only this time they’re not surrounded by people and he can actually take him in.

This man has a fancy black and yellow jack slung over his shoulders, but he doesn’t bother tucking in his arms so it just hangs there. Perhaps it’s a fashion statement, Akaashi thinks, but that area of expertise is far beyond him. In his opinion, it just looks silly. The rest of his outfit is fairly simple, tight black pants and a white blouse with puffy sleeves. It’s supposed to button up to his neck, but he leaves those undone. How the man ornaments himself on the other hand, sets him far apart than any normal person. A small piece of amber hangs from one ear. Akaashi only spies it when the man moves and the earring catches the early sunlight. A rock bound in twine lies against his chest. It looks black at first, but when it also catches the sun, it shines golden, just for a moment. Rings sparkle along his fingers as well. Akaashi wonders if he has an affinity for shiny objects. He wears his black and gray hair, spiked up, reminding Akaashi of a great horned owl.

Then this is him. This is the Owl and he’s standing right in front of him.

Akaashi intakes a quick breath in realization as Hinata answers the Owl. He had forgotten what they had been talking about seconds ago.

“Yeah, that’s Akaashi.”

“And why’s he in the castle?” the black cat asks with an annoying flick of his tail. This catches Akaashi’s eye and allows him to look away from the Owl’s dazzling appearance.

Hinata looks to Kenma, who shrugs. “Well,” he starts, drawing out the word as he gnaws on his lip considering, “he was sleeping on our doorstep so we let him in.”

The Owl’s big golden eyes land on Akaashi as he turns back. Suddenly, he’s much closer and staring into Akaashi’s face. As much as he wants to lean back and away from that gaze, Akaashi finds he can’t. He sits frozen, hands trembling, fighting to move.

“We can keep him, can’t we, Bokuto?” Hinata chirps in again.

Bokuto. So the Owl really does have a name.

Just as suddenly as he appeared, Bokuto has moved away again. Akaashi hardly blinks before he finds Bokuto moving away to stand in front of the fire, poking at it. “Sure!” he says, wearing a big grin. “So what’s for breakfast, hm?”

Akaashi blinks, taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. Going with the flow, Hinata answers, telling him what they have to eat. It doesn’t sound like much. He’s about to move and see if he can be of any help, but the black cat’s yellow gaze locks him in place, similarly to Bokuto’s. Damn these sorcerers.

“I’m Kuroo,” he says. “That’s quite a curse you have there.”

Akaashi frowns at that. Bokuto had surely overlooked it. Akaashi’s not sure how to feel about that. Perhaps to Bokuto feathers are a normal occurrence in a world filled with magic, but Kuroo has taken noticed. Maybe that’s for the best, Akaashi thinks. He knows enough about curses to know he can’t speak of his own. It’ll be up to him to break it, but if Kuroo knows about it—

“Are you cursed as well?” he decides to ask. Hinata and Kenma had ditched their disguises when they entered the castle, but Kuroo hadn’t. Was he one of those strange beasts found in the Wastelands? Another strange pet taken in by the even stranger household?

To his surprise, Kuroo laughs, as much as a cat can. “I’m not dumb enough to be caught in a curse.”

“Sure,” Akaashi says dryly, unimpressed.

“No, this is a disguise.”

Akaashi glances over to the fire where the boys are handing eggs to Bokuto who hold a long armed frying pan over the fire. It’s roaring quite merrily now. “A disguise like Hinata’s and Kenma’s?”

“Only mine is real, no just for practice,” Kuroo replies.

“What’s the point?” Akaashi asks, fiddling with the edge of the afghan as Kuroo steps off the couch’s arm and settles himself in the corner, reaching out with a paw to bat the loose spring.

His eyes find Akaashi again and they squint cunningly, but also in amusement. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he purrs to Akaashi’s further annoyance.

He gets to his feet to leave the big cat alone, but when he turns to fold the afghan back up, he realizes it’s already tucked over the back of the couch neatly.

“How peculiar,” Kuroo says teasingly, watching Akaashi’s surprise.

Shaking off the surprise, Akaashi decides not to respond and walks over to the fire. He passes Hinata carrying a plate of bacon to the table. Seeing him approach, Kenma goes over to the table as well, leaving Akaashi and the Owl alone.

“Anything I can help with?” Akaashi asks, wringing his hands awkwardly in front of him.

“Nope!” Bokuto says cheerfully, still wearing that grin, but he doesn’t spare Akaashi even the slightest glance. Those strange eyes stay locked on the fire and the eggs he’s cooking. They sizzle and grease splashes up. Akaashi notices that they never land on Bokuto’s hands.

For a moment, Akaashi just stands there, unsure of what to do. “We met before,” Akaashi says. It’s only polite to keep some kind of conversation going in this silence.

Bokuto ponders this a moment, tapping his chin with a spare hand. “I meet a lot of people.”

“And you knew my name without me telling you,” Akaashi presses.

Bokuto’s grin grows at this remark. “Well I am a sorcerer after all. I can’t go around just asking everyone’s name all the time.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “In other words, he’s lazy,” he drawls from the couch.

Akaashi glances at the cat over his shoulder, but when he looks back, Bokuto is moving to the table. And that closes the matter. He guesses that explains their meeting in a way, but still. It makes him feel uncomfortable. You don’t just call out someone’s name like that. Bokuto may be anything but proper, Akaashi has not clue, but—

But what? He lets the matter drop, too, and goes to sit at the table with the others. Most of the junk has been pushed to the other end to make room to eat. Akaashi guesses they don’t sit down like this very often.

Bokuto continues to avoid looking at him, though the avoidance seems completely natural on him. Even when they gather around the table, his eyes are constantly on something, anything, else. Maybe it isn’t anything unusual. How would Akaashi know?

Kuroo comes to claim a chair, too. He waits for the others to start eating before he holds himself up with his paws on the table, dipping his head to get at the food on his plate.

Akaashi doesn’t know exactly what he’s keeping this disguise on for, but surely doing it while eating is a bit overboard.

Eventually, he decides that if he ponders over every strange thing he encounters in this house, he will drive himself insane. He chooses to just accept it and move on to simpler decisions, like deciding between the few cutlery found in the house. Hinata holds them out for him to select, all as equally dirty as the last. He picks a smudged spoon.

“So, Akashi,” Kuroo starts around a mouthful of food, not bothering to lift his nose out of his plate, “what’re you going to do while you stay here?”

Akaashi pauses in his eating. He hadn’t even thought he’d make it this far so he hasn’t even considered what he might do now that the Owl has accepted him into his castle. “I don’t know,” he admits down into his plate. He taps his finger against his spoon, frustrated. It’s hard eating eggs with a spoon. He should’ve chosen the crusty fork.

“Well, we’re not putting you up for free, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Kuroo says. He watches Akaashi out of the corner of his eye. Odd, that he’s the one telling him this and not Bokuto.

“I know that,” Akaashi replies quickly. He doesn’t want Kuroo to think that he’s some freeloader.

Bokuto asks Hinata and Kenma how their lessons have been since he and Kuroo were away. Hinata answers while Kenma nods along silently. Kuroo continues to watch him.

“You know,” he says slowly, “this dump could really use a clean.”

Akaashi perks up at this. He’s good at cleaning. He’s been the only one maintaining the shop and home for years. Without him around, his brothers would surely have it worse off than the castle here. He nods determinedly. “I can do that.” He catches Bokuto’s eye at last and raises his voice slightly to address him down the table. “If you’re letting me stay here, I can keep house for you,” he says. He can feel his mouth quivering under that intense stare.

Finally, Bokuto shrugs. “We’ll see.” He turns back to talking to Hinata and Kenma. Hinata is bubbling with questions that Akaashi can’t begin to understand. More magic.

What does that mean? We’ll see? So is he cleaning the castle or not?

“Looks like you’ve got a job then,” Kuroo answers the unasked question, arranging himself back on the chair and rubbing a paw over his face to clean it. “Just don’t be getting into anything you shouldn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Akaashi asks. It seems Kuroo’s the only one giving semi-straight answers in this place.

“You’ll know.”

Akaashi sighs silently through his nose. Of course, Kuroo might be answering questions, but he doesn’t do a very good job of it. Akaashi will just have to do the best he can to not screw up. Hopefully someone will warn him before he stumbles upon any magic that will turn him into a toad. He doesn’t think a feathery toad will be a good combination and he certainly wouldn’t be able to break his curse in that state.

“Well,” Bokuto starts loudly, his silverware clattering loudly to the table, “I’m going to my room.” He stands and plops his dish into the sink with a clash. Akaashi’s surprised nothing breaks. “Try not to disturb me. If you have any more questions about that spell, ask Kuroo,” he says to Hinata and Kenma as he starts up the stairs. He doesn’t stop for a reply.

“Hey, I’m tired, too, you owl!” Kuroo growls after him.

The only response is the faint sound of a door closing somewhere above their heads.

Kuroo sighs and jumps down from his chair. “Don’t come to me,” he says to the two boys. “If you have any problems, ask me later. Or, better yet, ask Akaashi. _I’m_ taking a nap, too.”

“ _Me_?” Akaashi asks, but nobody is gracious enough to reply to him.

Kuroo settles himself on the warm bricks along the hearth’s edge and closes his eyes. That’s that.

“Are you a wizard, too?” Hinata asks after a moment of silence.

“No,” Akaashi grumbles, “just—” _cursed_ , is what he was going to say, but his tongue swells big enough to fill his mouth, nearly choking him. He gags for a moment, before it shrinks back down and he can breathe again. Right, no talking about the curse. “No, just in an awfully complicated predicament,” he continues raggedly. Inward, he curses Oikawa as colorfully as he knows how.

The boys think nothing of it and move on to finishing the rest of their breakfast. Akaashi still has half of his left, but he’s no longer hungry. He can’t quite describe how aggressively not hungry he is. He considers starting to clean up the table. Bokuto could’ve at least stuck around to help. Kuroo can’t for obvious reasons, but Bokuto—Akaashi just can’t understand him. Are sorcerers that much more complicated than normal people?

“Don’t mind Bokuto,” Hinata says cheerfully, as if reading his thoughts.

And Kenma adds, “He’s always like that.”

Like what, exactly?

Rude? Distant? Continuously distracted? Or acting as if nothing was worth his attention for long?

Akaashi can’t quite decide.

He tries to let their words comfort him, but he still feels ignored. Flung aside after his brief novelty has worn off. Trying to keep up with it all, he feels exhausted.

But the day has barely begun. The sun has poked out above the horizon. Back home, shops would only just be opening up around this time. He almost wishes for that normalcy.

Standing up, Akaashi walks the rest of the dishes to the sink. Hinata and Kenma thank him when he grabs their plates. The sink is stacked high, its dirty pile hidden in the darkness of last night. It makes the room feel even filthier. Plus Akaashi notices the cracked tile. He eyes it with an expressionless face. When was the last time someone did the dishes around here? Couldn’t Bokuto at least magic them to clean themselves? Wizards could do that sort of thing, right?

Akaashi doesn’t have the slightest idea to answer those questions. He’ll just have to add it to the list of stuff he’ll have to clean here and he can’t quite see the end to that list.

He leaves the dishes stacked there for later and approaches Kuroo. In a lowered voice, he asks, “Do you think you can—” he doesn’t think he can say it aloud, he can already feel his tongue threatening to swell and silence him again “—you know.”

“Break the spell on you?” Kuroo asks through a yawn, showing off his pearly fangs. Another difference between Kuroo and a regular housecat, Akaashi thinks. Kuroo opens his eyes and stares at Akaashi, fully taking him in, every inch, every thread of his jacket, every visible feather sprouting along his face and hands. Akaashi can feel them quiver. “Perhaps,” he says at last, “but only if you did something for me first.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Akaashi looks back suspiciously. “Why would I do anything for you when your end of the bargain is only a possibility?”

Kuroo’s fur bristles. “Fine, I’ll do it then,” Kuroo spits under his breath. They’re quiet enough for Hinata and Kenma not to hear them.

“And what do you want in return?”

Kuroo’s whiskers twitch as he calms himself, flattening his fur back down. “For you to break a different curse. Bokuto’s.”

“What kind of curse is he under?” What a great deal, Akaashi thinks. He doesn’t know anything about magic. He can hardly fathom how to break his own curse, but he has to break some wizard’s? Not happening.

At that, Kuroo shrugs. “Can’t say for sure. It was on him before we met.”

Figures Kuroo would ask him something impossible. What good are wizards if they can’t break each other’s curses? Or even their own for that matter. Akaashi would probably be better off heading back into the Wastelands. Maybe he’d find a way to break his curse without involving sorcerers. Unlikely, but he could at least try. He might be better off there than here. Maybe.

Trying to keep his face straight, Akaashi can feel his feathers thickening down his arms and his claws growing achingly slow. He hopes Kuroo doesn’t notice. How embarrassing.

He sighs and looks away, into the fire, trying to calm his feathers back down. “And how’d he manage that?” he wonders too quietly for Kuroo to hear.

“Probably put it on himself, too,” Kuroo mutters darkly into the paw he’s licking.

Akaashi turns away to let the cat sleep. Slowly, he can feel his feathers retreating and shrinking back to their normal size. He finds he can’t stand a conversation for very long in this house. They’re very overwhelming. All this talk of spells like such an everyday business. Back home, the subject is whispered behind hands, treated nervously, just like it should be. Opening a door he finds at the bottom of the steps, Akaashi figures he’ll just have to get used to it. There’s no point in returning anyway.

There they are. Just as he had assumed, the door leads to the broom closet. If possible, it’s even dustier than the main room. Thick cobwebs stretch from the broom’s handle and straw. There’s a bucket with a big hole rusted through the bottom and another one in better shape beside it, but not by much. There’s a dried out sponge for scrubbing, but nothing for soap. Other than that, it’s mostly empty. Akaashi’s not impressed. He settles on grabbing for the broom. It’ll take long enough to go over the place with that.

He decides there’s no use in putting it off. He said he’d clean the castle so he guesses he might as well get started already. It’s not like there’s anything else for him to do around here. He could try to start getting rid of Bokuto’s curse, but that’s not likely to happen any time soon, if ever. He’ll put that off until he can think of a way to actually get started on it. Maybe he’ll never break it and he’ll stay in this feathered body forever. Maybe out in the Wastelands it won’t be so bad.

It’s not so bad facing that idea here. He doesn’t have to cover it up like he had to back in town and nobody treats him like a freak because of it. Bokuto hadn’t even pointed it out. Hinata had because he’s only a kid, but he had only been pleasantly curious about it. Though he had asked if he were a monster or a demon. That had rubbed Akaashi the wrong way, but he had asked about them as if they were normal, everyday things. So perhaps he hadn’t meant it in a bad way. Kuroo had mentioned it, too, but that’s only because he’s a jerk, or maybe just straightforward. Akaashi can’t tell just yet.

“You’re sweeping rather furiously,” Kenma says offhandedly, interrupting Akaashi’s thoughts.

Brought back, he hears Hinata coughing. He looks up. Kenma hasn’t moved. He sits crouched on his chair on his feet, pouring over another piece of parchment. He’s already back to pointing something out to Hinata, ignoring Akaashi once more.

His sweeping has raised the dust into the air. He had forgotten how much more dust there is here than back home. At the shop, it didn’t matter how hard he swept, lost in thought. He cleaned often enough for it to not be a problem. Here is another story entirely.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

He finds that his claws have grown out again and have dug into the wood of the broom. Hoping no one has noticed. He yanks his hands free and goes back to sweeping, trying to keep his thoughts on the process at hand this time and his claws from marking up the broom even more. Bokuto surely won’t notice, he thinks.

Hinata and Kenma don’t pay him any mind. Kuroo sleeps on. He should feel uncomfortable with so many people around while he works. After all, that’s why he keeps to his workroom in the shop. Yet, somehow, he feels at home enough, for being stuck in a wizard’s house that is. He feels invisible as he sweeps and that’s how he likes it, at least when he’s working like this. It’s comfortable enough for him.

It’s a couple of hours of continuous sweeping. He is meticulous when it comes to cleaning and it’s like this place has never been touched with a broom. There’s a lot of work ahead of him. He hits every nook and cranny on the floor he can reach. Hinata raises his feet when he gets under the table and attacks the corners harshly where no footsteps have disturbed the dirt in however long it’s been.

Akaashi is only interrupted a few times. The boys are working at something at the table and clearly they don’t know exactly what it is they’re doing. The first time is the worse. It’s small, but it still sends the broom clattering to the floor and Akaashi whirling about, trying to see what had happened. It’s just a small purple cloud still floating before Hinata’s face, slowly fading. It leaves the boy’s face stained, but he’s laugh. So hard that Kenma has to hold him still in order to clean him up. It’s only his laughter that calms Akaashi enough to pick up his broom, but it takes another minute or so for his feathers to stop shaking.

More mishaps happen, frightening Akaashi less and less each time. They range from similar colorful explosions to small pops and cracks, usually sending their papers scattered. Some light up briefly like lightning. Near the end of his sweeping, Akaashi only shakes his head at these noises.

Magic, he thinks with a rough shake of his head. What’s the use of it? He sweeps the dust out the door into the Wastelands, taking breaks to make the sure the wind blows in the right direction away from the castle. He couldn’t begin to guess what the two were trying to accomplish.

To Akaashi’s further amazement, Kuroo sleeps through the entire thing. He knows this because he watches the big cat sleep. Not once does his deep breathing go interrupted. He must be so used to this, he could probably sleep through anything. Akaashi, a light sleeper himself, gets a little envious. After today, he’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep again. His brain is too busy.

The only sign Kuroo gives that he’s awake happens when a small knock sounds on the door. “Dock Hollow,” he says without even opening an eye.

Confused, Akaashi blinks at him as the cat seems to sleep on. He turns to look at Hinata and Kenma, to see if they react at all to what Kuroo says. Is it code for something? Both boys spring instantly from the table and rush to the door. Right before Akaashi’s eyes, their appearances seem to shimmer and change. It’s like what happened when they changed from cats into boys.

While he doesn’t grow any taller, Hinata grows a thick orange beard that distorts and hides half of his face. The rest is covered with middle-aged wrinkles and pudgy cheeks. His bright orange hair turns into curls and fall low on his forehead and he dons a cloak around himself in order to hide his boyish frame that remains the same.

Kenma does grow taller, rising a least a head above Hinata. His blonde and black hair also grows in length and wraps itself into a messy bun on the top of his head all on its own. Somehow his clothes stretch to fit his new size. His face matures, too, but not like Hinata’s. He looks more like he’s in his late teens instead of being maybe eleven, Akaashi guesses.

All these quick changes matched with the shock he receives when the door opens is almost enough to make him keel over. He’s not looking at the Wastelands anymore. He would have expected to see the view overtop of the cliff, but instead he’s looking out into a cobblestoned street. With widened eyes, he moves so he can better see over Hinata and Kenma’s heads. So many people walk back and forth outside. It’s a bright sunny day and undeniably not his town. However it is _a_ town and they definitely weren’t in one when he went to sleep. He glances out of the dusty window. Its view has changed, too.

An older man, older than Hinata’s appearance by his gray hair, stands at the door. He wears a fisherman’s hat and, with his hunched posture, rises only just taller than Hinata. His thick brows nearly hide his scrunched in eyes as he peers at the odd pair in front of him. He doesn’t seem surprised.

“Good day, sir,” Hinata says in a deep scratchy voice. Akaashi can barely recognize him under his disguise. If he hadn’t seen him and Kenma change right in front of him, he wouldn’t. “How can we help you this morning?”

The man adjusts his hat. “Is the wizard Bo in today? I have a pickup.”

“No, I’m afraid he’s out at the moment,” Kenma replies in his quiet voice. Akaashi finds it has deepened as well. “If it’s only a pickup, I’m sure we can help.”

He nods. “Yes, I’m here for my potion. Is it ready?”

“I’ll get it.”

Akaashi stares in astonishment as Kenma moves past him. He digs through the drawers and cupboards. Odd leaves and twigs stick out of some, marbles and shells clatter around in another. Some Kenma has to yank with both hands in order to open. Finally, he pulls out a plastic container of blue and gray dust and tips it on a small square of paper. He watches carefully, measuring with his eyes. Then he stops, tucks the container back in a random drawer, not the one he’d found it in, Akaashi notices, and rolls up the paper. He gives it a few good twists before going back to the door, passing by Akaashi again.

“Here you are, sir,” he says, handing it to the man. The fisherman accepts it with both hands. “Spread this on the bow of your boat and you will have favorable winds.”

“Thank you very much,” the man says with a bow and slips a coin into Hinata’s hands.

Then he’s gone and the door is closed again. Hinata and Kenma race away from the door as boys again. Hinata tucks the coin away in one of the drawers.

“Disguises were passable,” Kuroo remarks. His eyes are open now. “Hinata, try changing the color of your hair for once. Kenma, do something different. Anything. You’re too lazy.”

“Aww,” Hinata pouts, pulling at a lock of his bright hair.

Kenma doesn’t respond, but sighs instead.

Akaashi stares at the two, still clutching the broom in both hands. He doesn’t realize his claws have wedged themselves into the wood once more. “So what are you, exactly?” he asks them. “Are you cats, or boys, or whatever that was—”

“This is us,” Hinata says as he spreads his arms wide with a grin. “Whenever we do Bokuto’s business we have to disguise ourselves.”

“We’re not old enough to be taken on as apprentices yet,” Kenma adds. His hair now hangs in his face and he does nothing to move it out of his eyes.

“So we have to be careful.”

Akaashi stares at them for a moment longer, but the boys have already moved on. What had just happened is obviously an everyday occurrence to them.

“So when this part of the spell talks about the ocean do you think it’s calling for sand or shells?” Hinata asks Kenma as they return to the table.

“Well, what about salt water,” Kenma suggests. “I think we have salt. Or the actual ocean’s water? There’s the ocean in Dock Hollow.”

“All good suggestions, but not quite,” Kuroo says from the hearth.

Both turn their heads to look at the cat. Then, back at each other. “Fish?” they ask at once and Kuroo chuckles and, by all appearances, goes back to sleep.

Suddenly there’s a scramble of activity and Hinata goes through the cupboard and drawers again and Kenma messes around with their setup on the table.

Akaashi feels that he has no choice but to go back to his sweeping, checking for places he’s missed. He strays his path toward the front door. With Kuroo asleep, probably, and the boys furiously working on whatever it is they’re working on, Akaashi thinks it’s safe to open the door again. He spies a small dial on the wall to the left of the door with four colors painted into each section, blue, green, red, and black. Blue is facing up now with a small thin arrow pointing to it. Outside the window, Akaashi still see the town from before.

Propping the broom against the wall, Akaashi slowly cracks the wooden door open and peers outside. A warm breeze ruffles through his feathers and hair. That used to feel nice before the feathers. He takes a step out, looking up and down the street. The buildings and houses don’t rise as tall as those from his town and further down the hill he sees the big blue ocean stretch out before the town.

He stares. He’s never seen the ocean before.

This is a port town, he realizes. Kuroo had called it Dock Hollow. He’d never heard of a place by that name before, but it certainly suits it. He spies boats docked in the harbor and plenty more out, bobbing on the waves. The air is much warmer here than back home, too. He had just been starting to feel autumn chill behind the sun’s warmth, but here there’s no trace of it.

He takes a deep breath through his nose. The air is thick and salty. He thinks he could like it.

But remembering how his face looks, he draws back inside before he can start drawing any curious stares. He nearly tramples Kuroo in his haste to shut the door behind him. He’s probably coming to tell him to stop messing around anyway.

“This door is magic, isn’t it?” Akaashi asks him. “We were in the Wastelands this morning, but now where here. I don’t even know a Dock Hollow.”

“Yes, yes,” Kuroo says in a bored voice. “We’re tied to four places.”

A knock interrupts him. Akaashi watches in amazement as the dial whirs and lands on a new color, the red section.

“It’s the capital,” Kuroo calls to the boys.

He and Akaashi get out of the way as Hinata and Kenma transform back into their disguises. The only difference is the brown tint to Hinata’s hair. It’s still mostly orange though. Akaashi stands out of the way, where whoever at the door can’t see him, but he can watch their interaction with the boys. Kuroo sits at his feet and watches as well.

Everything happens just the same as before. Hinata runs and pours yellow powder onto paper, twists it closed, and hands it off to their customer who in turn hands over a coin or two. Then the door closes.

Without releasing hold of the doorknob, Kenma looks to Kuroo. “We’re going down to the harbor.”

Their disguises stay in place as the dial changes back to blue and the two depart into Dock Hollow, even though Akaashi had seen the country’s capital through the very same doorframe seconds ago. He feels his head spinning.

“That’s why the castle disappears,” Kuroo says, continuing his explanation. “Sometimes we’re in one place, but sometimes we’re in another. And not only as a castle either. In Dock Hollow and in the capital, the castle occupies vacant spaces, empty buildings. Those are Bokuto’s shops.”

It’s definitely a lot to take in. Akaashi feels a bit dizzy. So that’s why he could only see the castle from the tailor shop every once in a while. It wasn’t just a trick of the light or a mirage. The Vanishing Castle actually vanishes.

“So where does the black one lead?” he asks.

Kuroo gives a shake of his head. “Only Bokuto knows that and, from what I’ve witnessed of his returns, I hope you never find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind comments. It's always so much fun writing this fic.
> 
> My tumblr: [silentmarco](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com/)


	4. More Magic and More Feathers

“You want me to what?”

Laughing, Kuroo trots after Akaashi as he storms across the room. He dumps the mop into the broom closet and slams the door closed, nearly trampling over the cat when he turns. Taking a damp rag from the now empty and cleaned sink, he goes to attack the dusty window. The couch in front of it had disappeared sometime after breakfast. Akaashi has stopped questioning things like that.

“Well, you’ve done a wonderful job cleaning,” Kuroo starts, sitting down beside him as he cleans.

Kuroo’s schmoozing him. Akaashi knows this. He’s lived with Konoha long enough to know when he’s being schmoozed. His own father does it. He scrubs harder.

“I just thought it’d be a nice way for you to take a break and get out of the house,” he continues.

“What if I don’t want to get out of the house?” Akaashi asks through gritted teeth. The window is practically stained with smudges. He pauses to give it a withering look, one which he wishes he could shoot Kuroo, before continuing his scrubbing.

Kuroo rolls his eyes and doesn’t speak for a moment. Akaashi wishes he’d return to sleeping by the fire. Maybe close enough so he could accidentally knock him in, just enough to singe his fur.

It’s been a productive morning. He never realized what an efficient housekeep he’d make. The floor has already been swept and mopped. The sink has been cleaned out and thoroughly scrubbed down. It certainly looks much cleaner. Too bad he can’t do anything about the cracked and faded tiles. He thought about asking Kuroo about that, maybe magic could help, but now he doesn’t want much to do with the cat. The plates and silverware have been cleaned and dried and now sit stacked on one end of the table, awaiting homes somewhere in the cupboards. But that’ll only happen once Akaashi gets a chance to organize them and make room. At the moment, they’re atrocious, crammed full with the oddest assortment of junk. He has no clue what he can throw away without making anyone upset. Wizards are weird about junk like that.

“You’ll be doing me a big favor,” Kuroo says with a cat-like smile, revealing fangs that just make it slightly intimidating instead. He’s trying his best, Akaashi’s sure of it, but it still just looks downright suspicious.

“I’m not going outside,” Akaashi insists in a mumble. “Besides, there’s too much work to do here.”

At that, Kuroo’s smile drops as quickly as though it had been hung on his face. Akaashi assumed it had been fake anyway. The cat sighs loudly, obnoxiously, quivering his whiskers. “I told you, plenty of people in Dock Hollow are cursed or under some spell or other. You won’t stand out, I promise. It’s actually quite progressive, as far as towns go. In a sense. Why do you think Bokuto chose to set up shop here?”

Akaashi wrings the rag in his hands with anxious fingers. The dirty water drips and splatters to the floor. He was planning on mopping again anyway. He never did find the soap. Kuroo had been sleeping at the time and he feared waking him. Only now does he choose to be chatty, to Akaashi’s annoyance.

“I don’t know,” he breathes, chancing a look down at Kuroo. “Why did he?”

Pleased that he’s finally been given attention, Kuroo’s ears perk up. “Well, first of all,” he starts pleasantly, “he was born here. So there’s that. Second, plenty of witches and wizards have businesses here. You wouldn’t know, of course, because you haven’t been outside yet, and even if you did, they blend in. It’s a nice place for magic without being wrapped up in the politics of it.”

“Yet he’s tied to the capital,” Akaashi grumbles, turning his stare back out the window.

“True,” Kuroo says with a chuckle. “So will you go?”

“Alright.”

“Great! You’ll find Hinata and Kenma down by the harbor. Even with their disguises, they’re hard to miss. Help them finish up and then get them to help you pick something out for dinner.”

How domestic, Akaashi thinks dryly. The idea of shopping for dinner is so ordinary, yet the image of sitting around a big meal surrounded by sorcerers is…disconcerting. Breakfast was one thing. He’d been half asleep anyway. Plus Bokuto left halfway through. It hardly counts as a sound example.

“If you go through the drawers, you should find enough money for food,” Kuroo continues, hopeful, not wanting Akaashi to back out now. He hovers around him as Akaashi abandons cleaning the rest of the window. It’s useless anyway without something stronger.

Akaashi stares at the drawers as he sets the rag down on the table. He’ll have to clean it sometime before dinner, he reminds himself, and he tries to remember which drawer Hinata and Kenma had tucked away the coins. Of course, with his luck, they’re as unorganized with their money as they are with their spells.

“Maybe not that one,” Kuroo says, trying to be helpful. He jumps up onto a chair and balances on his hindquarters, trying to peer into the drawers Akaashi opens. After another failed attempt, he says, “Try the one to the right,” pointing with a paw. Akaashi was going to open that one next anyway. Akaashi glares at him over his shoulder in response.

He finds the coins from earlier, plus a few more. They’re hidden under three slices of moldy bread, which he waves at Kuroo as he pockets the money. “Does anyone clean in this house?”

Wobbling a bit, Kuroo holds out his front paws in a kind of shrug. “Does it look like I have the hands for it?”

“Well don’t make more of a mess while I’m gone.” Akaashi rolls his eyes and heads for the door. Kuroo lands on the floor with a thump and trots after him.

“Thanks, Akaashi! Don’t let the kids go overboard with dinner,” he replies teasingly.

“Whatever,” Akaashi huffs.

As much as he wants to slam the door behind him, right into Kuroo’s smug face, he doesn’t. No, there are people about and he doesn’t want to draw any more attention than he knows he will. He starts off down the cobblestone road, his heart beating fast. It’s distracting enough that he can only focus on putting one foot in front of the other for the moment. So far so good.

It’s much hotter out now. The sun is past its highest point and it has to be the hottest time of day. Akaashi wishes it were cooler out, that way he could reason wearing his jacket, maybe even have his hood up.

He is so preoccupied with the feeling of imaginary eyes on him that he doesn’t even remember to glance up at the castle as he leaves. He misses looking at what kind of building it is tied to here in Dock Hollow. Instead, he carries on with quick footsteps, traveling down the street’s gentle slope. With his eyes trained on the stones passing beneath his feet, he hopes no one looks at him for too long. He doesn’t care what Kuroo said, he still doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. At least no one that would think it odd. He doesn’t mind Hinata, Kenma, and Kuroo so much. Even the Owl. They don’t seem to care. They’re surrounded by magic every day after all.

He feels his shoulders hunch involuntarily. He doesn’t want anyone laughing and pointing at him, or scurrying away with adverted gazes. That’s why he keeps his eyes down. If that does happen, he doesn’t want to see it.

It’s not far to the harbor. Akaashi passes brick and wooden buildings, but he doesn’t pause to take a closer look at them. Some have wooden signs above their doors that wave slightly in the faint salty breeze. They clack about against the wooden pole that holds them out. He risks a glance up at these signs every so often, but his head usually ducks down again when he spots someone else coming along the opposite side of the road.

A small child, younger than Hinata and Kenma, points at him with a big grin and then glances up at his mother. Akaashi flinches away at first, but the mother catches his eye and kindly smiles at him as she lowers the child’s hand. She offers a slight wave to Akaashi before speaking to her son and carrying on their way..

Akaashi’s not quite sure what to make of the encounter, so he chooses to forget about it and move on. The only thing that lingers is the faint, but pleasant, feeling in his stomach. That wasn’t so bad.

But another part of him says that he could never have gotten away with that at home.

At the bottom of the slope, the street levels out and widens slightly to allow for rows of carts to park. It’s a market, similar to Akaashi’s hometown. As familiar as it is to walk through the rows of goods for sale, so many are alien to him that it no longer feels comfortable. It smells like fish. Back home, it was rare to find a merchant selling fish. He quickens his pace even more to make his way through to the docks. Not much farther, he tells himself.

It’s crowded around the market. People stand in groups around carts and the air is filled with chatter. Back home, most of the day’s rush would slow down by mid afternoon. Here, though the town is not as big, they continue to go about their business. Perhaps it’s all the stopping and talking that’s different. Akaashi has to squeeze around people who are too caught up in their conversation to notice him, or hear his quiet pardons.

One group of men that Akaashi passes has a newspaper unfurled. The other two lean over the man in the middle holding the paper to get a better look at it. One points at something while the other two shake their heads. Akaashi slows just enough to catch their conversation.

“There’s war up north,” the one in the middle says gruffly.

Has word only just reached them about that? Akaashi wonders.

“What a misunderstanding.”

“And we’ll be caught right in the middle of it like always.”

“All that propaganda, too,” one snorts. “What nonsense.”

A woman stops by with her companion and, as she glances over the selection of fish, she offers her opinions, saying, “I heard it’s because the crown prince’s fiancé has gone missing. And you know the prince is the one really running the kingdom these days.”

“True,” says the other woman. “After that illness the king suffered last spring, he’s not in his right mind to rule.”

The three men stare at the two for a moment. “Is this the north or the south?” one finally asks, to which both women laugh.

“Does it really matter?” says the first.

“I heard it was the south,” says the second, “but, no matter what, they’ll always find something to blame the other for.”

“Even if it is a misunderstanding.”

The women finish choosing their fish and hand over their coins to one man while the one who had the newspaper folds it up and puts it away.

Akaashi continues on. This is surely news to him. He did not know that the southern kingdom’s prince was missing his fiancé. Since his kingdom is in the north, and their king has not suffered any recent illness, it’s not hard for him to piece together the story. It doesn’t matter if the prince’s excuse is a scapegoat or not. The war is happening no matter what. He hadn’t realized just how removed Dock Hollow is from everything. To not know the kings of their neighboring countries, but to be close enough to be caught in a war—

Akaashi shakes his head. It’s not his place to worry about such things like that. He needs to solve his own problems, not the war. Even better that he’s tied to someplace like Dock Hollow. Completely removed.

At last, he’s made his way through the market. They’ll come back through that way to shop for dinner. He tells himself it will be a different experience with Hinata and Kenma. He won’t be on his own shopping for strange food.

By the docks, he finds less people. All of the boats have headed out to sea for the day, taking their fishermen along with them. It won’t be crowded until later when they return. Akaashi pauses where cobblestone changes to the wood of the docks, eyes scanning around for the boys.

Down on the water’s bank, he spots them. They’re the only two by the water. Wooden planks are shoved into the side of the slope for steps and they creak under his weight. On the last step he stops, sitting down to remove his socks and shoes and roll up his pants, just like the boys.

“You’re not wearing your disguises,” he says in greeting as he nears them.

They both look up. Kenma is in the middle of reaching out for something in the water while Hinata balances a bucket on his head. He’s moving around enough though for water to splash out of it and into his hair and shirt.

Why did he bother to roll up his pants then? Akaashi wonders in amusement.

“We don’t need disguises everywhere we go,” Kenma says in exasperation that raises Akaashi’s brows and he tries not to laugh. Kenma braces himself as a gentle wave rises to his knees. The water rolls up far enough to brush sand over Akaashi’s feet.

“Yeah,” Hinata adds, sticking out his tongue, “plenty of kids play around here, so why can’t we? Show some compassion! Don’t you remember your childhood, Akaashi?”

He nearly misses Kenma mumbling, “He’s probably too old.”

Pinching his lips together, Akaashi stares out at the water, trying not to look too affronted. “Actually, I don’t remember my childhood much.”

“Huh?” Hinata cocks his head to the side, spilling the bucket’s contents completely. He brings it down to hold in front of him. “What, did you get hit on the head or something?”

Akaashi chuckles and moves closer to squat down next to Kenma. There are a few shells poking out of the sand near their feet, which must’ve been what Kenma was reaching for. “Maybe,” he says. “I don’t think so, but who knows, right?”

Hinata laughs and plunges his hand into the water for the shells, splashing Akaashi and Kenma in the process.

“So why are you here?” Kenma asks, once Hinata has gathered up all the shells the waves don’t pull away.

“Kuroo sent me to help you two finish up. Then, we’re shopping for dinner,” Akaashi explains. Both brighten at this news. Hinata especially.

“Kuroo never lets us pick out dinner!” he exclaims. “It really must be a special occasion. Thanks, Akaashi!”

Akaashi can’t help but smile in bewilderment. “For what?”

“Well, if you hadn’t come, then there would be no special occasion to celebrate, of course.”

Shaking his head, Akaashi can only reply, “Of course.”

Hinata claps his hands together, clattering the shells in the bucket. “Alright!” He points out to a spot deeper in the water. “Akaashi, you stand there and scare the fish toward Kenma and me.”

Groaning, Akaashi gets to his feet and does as he’s told. They’re the only ones down by the water. He hopes no one’s staring too much. The freaky feathered guy helping two boys catch fish in a bucket. If that’s not an odd sight, he’s not sure what is.

It takes them about an hour to successfully catch a fish. By that time, Akaashi’s clothes are damp and he can feel the feathers along his arms and legs clumping together, starting to crust with salt. No wonder birds aren’t supposed to get wet. They stand on edge where his clothes don’t cover and weight them down, trying to dry themselves.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Akaashi wades through the seawater over to Hinata and Kenma. They crowd around Hinata’s bucket, staring at the fish inside. When he approaches, they move their heads out of the way to allow Akaashi a glimpse at their prize.

It’s not very impressive, a silver little thing that circles the bottom of the pale, looking for the big wide ocean it once knew. But Hinata and Kenma seem pleased, so Akaashi doesn’t say anything. He does wonder though what kind of spell they’ll need the fish for. Perhaps he’ll watch them after dinner.

In the market, they collect more fish, although these are much bigger and are dead. Meant for eating, not spells. The fishermen wives insist they’re fresh. Being so close to the ocean, Akaashi doesn’t doubt it. He allows Hinata and Kenma to pick out vegetables, despite their protests. They’d rather pick out cakes and sweets from the bakery down the road.

“Kuroo didn’t give us enough money for that, so you’ll just have to pick out something to eat here,” Akaashi says, looking at the rest of their money. Yes, he thinks, paint Kuroo as the bad guy.

Hinata and Kenma go along with it. Hinata runs up and down rows of vendors, towing Kenma behind him. He keeps one arms secured around the bucket. It doesn’t take them much longer to pick out a few vegetables. Mostly Hinata just runs up to a cart, points at something randomly, and runs to the next. Kenma just seems to be along for the ride. In the end, their basket is an odd mix of food, but it will have to do for dinner tonight. Akaashi can’t really argue with a warm meal. Food is food after all.

“This is a very nice town,” he remarks to the boys on their way back to the castle. Hinata carries his bucket proudly while Kenma helps with the groceries.

“Kuro calls it progressive, but he doesn’t really mean that,” Kenma says. “If anything, it’s more historical.”

“Bokuto says it’s converted back to how towns were,” Hinata adds.

Kenma nods. “But that was a very long time ago.”

Hinata stops, resting his chin against the edge of his bucket thoughtfully. “I think it’s a little bit of both,” he says, looking up at Akaashi. “From what Kuroo and Bokuto say, maybe things were more progressive how they used to be and it’s a good thing that Dock Hollow has gone back to those ways.”

Glancing between the two, Akaashi hesitates before continuing past them. “If this is about the whole history of magic or whatever, I really don’t know anything about that. So I guess I can’t say which is better.”

“Well how were things in the town you cam from?” Hinata asks. “I mean, you said you didn’t come from the Wastelands.”

“Magic is only something to be gossiped about,” he says offhandedly, but then pauses, lips pinching into a thin line. “But they fear it.” He remembers seeing the carts and shops that sold more magical items, like ingredients to spells or whatever. He didn’t know, but Hinata had pointed out a few to them. “Magic doesn’t have a place back home, not like it does here anyway.”

Hinata grins up at Akaashi. “Then that settles it. A town without magic can’t be a great as this one.”

Kenma sighs and turns to face the door. They’re suddenly back. Akaashi glances up at the brick building that looks absolutely nothing like the castle back in the Wastelands. He feels like Kenma wants to say something more on the subject, but the boy disappears into the house, Hinata just after him.

*****

Bokuto doesn’t come down for dinner, so it’s up to Akaashi to prepare it. While he cooks at the hearth, Hinata and Kenma work on a spell at the table. It’s a different one than the one requiring the fish. Instead, the bucket is placed on the windowsill. Kuroo sits beside Akaashi with his eyes closed, although Akaashi sometimes spots him squinting at the flames, grumbling about how he has to babysit while Bokuto sleeps the day away. Akaashi stops himself from snorting, but he still doesn’t think he needs to be babysat. He’s managed just fine all day.

When the food is brought to the table, the Owl still doesn’t appear, though Kuroo glances up the stairs at one point when he thinks no one is looking. Shaking himself roughly, he jumps up into his chair.

The food is dry. Akaashi cringes inwardly at his subpar cooking skills, but still eats everything on his plate and even goes back for seconds. He’s very hungry after such a long day and he’s willing to eat just about anything at this point. Plus he remembers how hungry he’d been from yesterday. It makes him even hungrier.

The others are polite enough not to point this out. That or maybe they’re too busy stuffing their faces as well. Perhaps spending enough time disguised as animals makes you eat like one. Akaashi wonders how long Hinata and Kenma have stayed here. If it’s been for long, having a cat like Kuroo stand in as role model couldn’t have been helpful learning proper manners. And Bokuto doesn’t seem to be a very good one either, seeing that he can’t even show up to dinner.

The evening carries on similarly to the morning. Akaashi does the dishes again and after they join the pile of other clean dishware at the end of the table. He decides to go through the cupboards and drawers while the others are around to help. He holds up twigs and leaves and odd stones and bags of dirt. At first it seems like nothing can be tossed. Everything he holds up seems to have some crucial importance.

Hinata shakes his head at the dry leaves that have crumbled in Akaashi’s hands. “No, that’s important. We need that for…something.”

And Akaashi sighs and piles them on the counter.

Or Kenma would say, “No, I think Bokuto was using that.”

It’s not until he threatens to dump every single thing he can get his hands on that they become more serious. Even Kuroo trots over to help.

Eventually, between the four of them, Akaashi gets everything they plan on keeping laid out and piled up on the countertops. Everything else gets tossed into a bag and placed out by their trashcans.

Akaashi is reminded heavily of the night Oikawa had visited. He remembers hiding the broken mirror in the trash and how the vase had spilled dirt all over the floors. He can’t help but to think of that now as he sweeps up the remains that had fallen to the floor.

Again enlisting the boys’ help, they go through everything to organize it, placing what they need to perform spells in the two drawers on the left side and putting money and the powders and anything else they need for customers in the other drawers.

“Now, you’re to keep it this way, understand?” Akaashi asks sternly once they’ve finished with the drawers. “This way, you’ll know where everything is.”

“Yes, Akaashi,” they say meekly.

Satisfied, Akaashi moves to the cupboards above. He stands up on a chair in order to reach. They take less time to clean out. He doesn’t need their opinion if he throws out chipped bowls and plates or bent silverware. He replaces these with the clean dishes, then in trips takes over the dusty ones to be washed. He slaves over these until he hears footsteps descending the creaking stairs.

“It’s bedtime, my little apprentices,” a voice sings and Akaashi looks over his shoulder to see the Owl hanging over the railing with a bring grin on his face. While Hinata and Kenma spout excuses about needing Bokuto’s help to finish another spell, the Owl’s eyes light on Akaashi at the sink. “Have they been good for you, Akaashi?”

“As good as kids can be,” Akaashi says in a monotone, not allowing a chance for confusion to leak through. Now the Owl is suddenly taking notice of him?

“He helped us with a spell we’re learning,” Hinata pipes in before Akaashi can think further on it.

He doesn’t really think what he had done could be considered helpful. He’d just helped catch a fish. Even then, he didn’t really do much.

But Bokuto laughs loudly, it bounces off the walls and makes Akaashi’s head spin. “I knew he’d be a good help,” Bokuto says cheerfully.

“And what about me?” Kuroo yowls from the hearth. “ _I_ didn’t just sit around all day like _someone_.”

“Kuro helped, too,” Kenma adds quietly, sticking up for the cat.

“Yes, yes, Kuroo, you’re always a help,” Bokuto says, still grinning at Akaashi while he waves Kuroo off. Then, he whips his head around to look at Hinata and Kenma. “Now, will you two go to bed, or will I have to drag you?”

“That depends,” Kenma says crossing his arms. He quickly glances sideways at Hinata.

“Yeah,” Hinata drawls out, copying Kenma and crossing his arms, “that depends if you’ll tell us a story first.”

Bokuto sighs dramatically and hangs his body over the side of the railing. “Well, if it will get you to sleep, then I suppose I have no other choice.”

Both of the boys’ faces light up and they run from the table, past Bokuto, and up the stairs. Akaashi sees all their work left behind and sighs. He’ll have to clean that up, especially if Bokuto intends on getting any work done. The entire tabletop is covered. He hadn’t gotten around to the rest of it just yet.

Bokuto follows them at a slower pace. Even Kuroo jumps off the hearth’s bricks and bounds up the stairs. Only Hinata springs back to poke his head down to find Akaashi.

“Are you coming, too, Akaashi?” he asks.

Feeling as though he has no other choice, Akaashi gives in. He closes the cupboards. The rest will have to wait until later. Seeing him coming, Hinata hurries back up the stairs, Akaashi not far behind.

The stairs stop at a landing with only one door on it. Allowing Hinata to carry on ahead, Akaashi sticks his head in. It’s a bathroom, complete with a tub and a showerhead, a sink, and a toilet. He recoils from the stench, hand immediately coming to cover his mouth and nose. Is this really how sorcerers live? he wonders in disgust. Regretfully, he adds the bathroom to tomorrow’s list as he closes the door. He drags his feet up the next set of stairs. There’s a door at the top and one at the end of the hallway.

Akaashi turns into the first room since it stands open with soft candlelight pouring out from it, lighting the dark hallway. It’s not a very big room, so Akaashi stays in the doorway. There’s a bed on either side, Hinata on the left and Kenma on the right. Opposite of the door sits a dresser against a window. Bokuto sits cross-legged on top of it while Kuroo curls up at the end of Kenma’s bed.

Just like the rest of the house, this room is messy, but just as much as any child’s would be. The mess looks more natural here. It somehow puts Akaashi at ease. It’ll still need cleaned, swept, and dusted, but it doesn’t seem nearly as intimidating as every other room he’s been in. Perhaps getting Hinata and Kenma to allow him to clean in here will be the real issue.

He imagines the other door must lead to Bokuto’s room. If the master of the castle leaves it in such as state, Akaashi dreads what he’ll find in there.

Leaning against the doorframe, he puts it from his mind. It’s been a very long day. It’s only right that he allows himself to relax. Curse or no he can’t run himself into the ground.

“What story are you going to tell us tonight?” Kenma asks once everyone is settled in their places.

Bokuto hums thoughtfully, propping an elbow on his knee and his chin on his fist. “How about the Sorcerer of the Wastelands? You two always like that one,” Bokuto says with a sneaky grin. Both boys seem to approve.

“Yes, yes,” Hinata says giddily, “tell us about Oikawa.”

This captures Akaashi’s attention. Instinctively, he leans forward, wanting to know more about the wizard who had cursed him.

Bokuto’s eyes light on Akaashi, eagerly taking in his attention, proud of himself for capturing it. He only looks away once the boys have quieted down to start the story.

“Oikawa was once an apprentice under the King’s Royal Sorcerer. He was one of the most promising apprentices he ever had.”

“But not the most promising, right, Bokuto?” Hinata asks.

“Yeah, you said that was you,” Kenma adds, almost like a challenge of sorts.

Bokuto laughs. “You’re not wrong, my dear apprentices,” he says fondly as he rubs his chin with proud, taking in what they had said as praise. “You’re not wrong, but this story isn’t about me, so unfortunately, we must return to Oikawa. Now, you know he was the only one of the Royal Sorcerer’s three apprentices to complete his training. There was a lot of hope riding on him. You see, the kingdom had just been devastated by war and the King was making promises that we wouldn’t be so easily defeated next time. Next time, he promised, we would have magic to help us win. And nobody knew this, but Oikawa had been specially trained to fight in one of these wars. He was, and still is, a very dangerous wizard, but he gave people hope.” Bokuto pauses, running his hands through his hair carefully, apparently waiting for something.

“But no war happened, did it,” Kenma asks when Bokuto doesn’t continue right away, giving him his cues.

“No,” he says, perking up at the question, “so, naturally, Oikawa grew bored.”

It’s not that he’s a good storyteller, Akaashi thinks. It’s that his apprentices have learned how to pull the stories out of him. Bokuto likes them interacting, asking questions. Akaashi gives a slight shake of his head as Bokuto excitedly presses on with his story.

“Nobody knows why, but Oikawa started playing tricks on people. He placed spells on anyone who happened by and would curse those he passed on the streets. It started off innocently enough, but the spells got worse. They say everyone he’s ever cursed has disappeared into the Wastelands and that every beast you see is really one of Oikawa’s creations. Another rumor is that he’ll come back and eat his monsters to grow stronger. But, eventually, the King had no choice but to banish him to the Wastelands, where he has stayed ever since. A lot of people in the kingdom lost hope. They thought he would be the next Royal Sorcerer to the King someday.”

“But this is the first war since Oikawa’s banishment,” Kenma thinks aloud.

“Do you think the King will invite him back?” Hinata asks, his eyes wide.

Bokuto shrugs. “Who knows? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” He pauses, looking back and forth between the boys. “The end!” he says with a clap of his hands.

Hinata flings himself back into his bed, arms splayed wide. “That’s it?” he says to the ceiling. “How do you expect us to sleep after that, Bokuto?”

“An open-ended story is unfair,” Kenma grumbles.

Chuckling deviously, Bokuto jumps down from the dresser. “We have a lot of work to do tomorrow,” he says and places his hands on his hips, trying to look impressive. “So, as your Master, I expect you to both get a good night’s sleep.”

Hinata and Kenma both groan and Bokuto brushes past Akaashi and down the stairs, Kuroo right on his heels. Akaashi stands at the door for a second longer before he moves to join them.

“Goodnight,” he tells the boys and pulls the doors closed.

“Night, Akaashi,” both mumble sleepily after him.

At the bottom of the stairs, Bokuto waits for him and nearly pounces on him before he has both feet on the ground.

“Akaashi! Come on a walk with me.”

Gripping the railing to regain his balance, Akaashi stares back at him. “Why?”

Already, Bokuto starts pulling him toward the door. “Well, you’re not going to sleep already, are you? It’s still early.” He opens the door and Akaashi can still see the last rays of sunlight reflecting in the clouds. The first stars are appearing in the distance.

“I guess not,” he responds, “but I was going to finish cleaning the—”

“Oh please, you’ve done enough already. Kuroo has told me what a menace you’ve become.” He tugs on Akaashi’s arm with both hands so that he stands in front of the door. “You can’t possibly do much more tonight.”

“I think you’re underestimating me,” Akaashi replies dryly.

“Probably!” and with a gentle shove, Bokuto pushes Akaashi out into the street.

Bokuto leads them up the cobblestone street instead of down toward the water, the path Akaashi had taken that afternoon. They walk in silence for a few minutes, which Akaashi finds disconcerting. He tries to think of something to say, but his mind is blank. He tries to grasp for words, but they slip between his fingers. So he stays silent at Bokuto’s side. The Owl walks on unconcerned, perfectly content. They stay like this until someone passes by them and Akaashi winces, turning his face away.

Bokuto laughs when Akaashi draws closer to him and away from those walking along the street. “You’re still flinching away from strangers, Akaashi?” he asks.

Akaashi can feel his shame reddening his face. He turns his eyes to his shoes. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this,” he admits.

Silence again as Bokuto doesn’t respond. This only makes Akaashi’s face flush even more. He shouldn’t have said anything.

After a few moments, the night breeze cools him slightly, gently skimming the tips of his feathers across his cheeks. He tries so hard to make that feeling a comforting one. It’s getting there, just maybe but not yet. At least it feels better than the heat and the sweat from earlier clumping them together. He concentrates on that.

“You said you were an apprentice like Oikawa?” he asks, suddenly finding his mind clear again.

“Mhmm,” Bokuto hums pleasantly.

Akaashi glances up at him. His eyes are on the stars as they slowly appear in the night sky while the sunset fades. “To the Royal Sorcerer?”

“Yup.” He pops the end of the word.

“But you didn’t complete your—”

“Akaashi, listen.”

Bokuto stops and Akaashi falls silent. They’ve come to the top of the hill. From here he can see the end of the town and the tall grass that grows out of the sandy earth. It waves in the wind at them. So it appears Bokuto’s shop is near the outskirts of town. Distantly, that reminds Akaashi of the tailor shop.

“I’m heading out for the night. I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, so I want you to tell the others.”

Frowning, Akaashi crosses his arms over his chest. “Ah, I see. You only asked me to come so you wouldn’t have to break the news yourself.”

“Of course not,” Bokuto says with a lazy grin. He slings an arm around Akaashi’s shoulder. “Look at the view. It’s a lovely night.” Then he turns back to facing Akaashi again. “But yes, I also want you to break the news. The boys might be a little difficult, so I usually try to get out of that however I can. That and Kuroo usually disapproves.”

Akaashi stares at him, mouth open slightly. He draws a conclusion about Bokuto right then. The Owl will weasel out of anything if he can. Akaashi is disappointed to find that he’s not quite surprised by this finding. “Well, alright then. I can do that.”

Bokuto smiles at him and grabs Akaashi’s face in both hands. “Thanks, Akaashi!” Before Akaashi can pull away, his grip tightens and Bokuto places a kiss on his forehead. “Protect my family, okay?”

He feels his stomach flip at his words. Not to mention such an intimate action pulled so casually. Protect them from what? But in that moment, he doesn’t question it. His mind is too busy playing static. “Sure,” he says numbly, trying to nod in Bokuto’s tight grip.

Then Bokuto’s hands slip away and right in front of Akaashi’s eyes, his image shimmers and he finds himself staring at a large owl, at least a head higher than him. Other than the size, the only thing that marks it different than a great horned owl are the black and white feathers with a yellow tint to some of them and its eyes, which are clearly Bokuto’s.

His beak parts in what might be a grin. “See? You’re not the only one with feathers!”

He whacks one of his great wings against Akaashi, nearly toppling him to the ground. Then, with a strong beat of his wings, he lifts himself into the sky, his flapping sends winds battering against Akaashi. Squeezing his eyes closed, he holds up his hands to protect his face from flying debris from the ground. When Akaashi looks back up again, the Owl has vanished.

*****

Back inside the castle, Kuroo comes to greet him at the door. He doesn’t seem surprised that Akaashi has come back alone.

“He’s gone for the night, isn’t he,” he says, flicking his tail in annoyance.

Akaashi nods before heading over to the fire. It has gone down quite a bit since dinner. It’s nearly out. He stirs the coals and places another log in. This throws some light back into the room. Following him, Kuroo curls up on the heated bricks beside him, his usual place.

“I’m not surprised,” he continues as he gets comfortable.

Akaashi puts the poker back in its place and sits down in the chair facing the fire. “He’s done this before?”

Kuroo shrugs. “Hmm, enough for it to not surprise me.”

“Where does he go?”

“I have my guesses, but I’m not sure.”

Kuroo’s eyes close and Akaashi falls silent. He thinks that maybe he’ll just fall asleep here for the night. It won’t be as comfortable as the couch, but that piece of furniture has yet to make a reappearance. He settles himself lower in the chair and prepares to doze off, thinking in a growing haze about Bokuto’s disappearance. He’s too tired to really give it some thought.

Before he can completely lose himself to sleep, Kuroo’s voice interrupts.

“There’s room for you to sleep under the stairs,” he says.

Akaashi cracks an eye open to look at him, but Kuroo makes no further comment. Curiosity getting the better of himself, he gets to his feet and approaches the stairs.

Below them, a curtain has been hung. Sliding that aside, he reveals a small nook carved into the wall, just beneath the stairs and beside the fire. He can still feel its warmth. A mattress has been crammed inside along with the same green afghan from this morning. It’s folded neatly on top. On the opposite wall are a couple of shelves. They’re bare, but they hold promise of being able to make this small space his own. Despite being a bit cramped, it’s perfect. He turns back to the cat.

“Kuroo,” he starts.

“Wasn’t me,” Kuroo interrupts as he sits up. “The castle must like you. It made a place for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I plan on taking a catnap. Uninterrupted this time.”

“Well, thank you,” Akaashi says quietly, though not quite sure who he’s thanking. He’s touched by this gesture, even if it’s just a magic building somehow realizing it has one more occupant to house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited that the story has been picking up. I think things will really start moving next chapter. And sorry it's a day late! I really did want to post yesterday, but it just didn't happen. I blame the new season as well as Yuri on Ice, haha!
> 
> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> My tumblr: [silentmarco](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com/)


	5. What Monsters Deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm so sorry!
> 
> I should've realized last chapter that I'd be away for a bit. It was right before midterms and fall break (and I'm not often inspired at home). Then I came back and had to go to NYC and was anxious for an entire week (so couldn't write) and then it was Family Weekend at my school (so also couldn't write, had to entertain the parents).
> 
> Anyway, I should've seen this coming, so I apologize greatly! Please accept this extra long chapter as an apology!

The following morning is chilly and it takes all of Akaashi’s energy just to crawl out of his little nook of a bedroom. Even though it can’t really be considered much of a room, he thinks while failing to cover up a yawn. He keeps his afghan wrapped around him as he pokes the fire awake. It’s crumbling down to embers now, so he adds another log. Slowly, it grows and finds its appetite.

Kuroo perches on the edge of the stone hearth watching him. “Not much of an early riser, are you,” he says with a sly purr, to which Akaashi grumbles some kind of grouchy reply. He’s too tired for his brain to work properly. “We’re all early risers here,” he explains, pulling himself forward on his front paws to stretch. “Besides, it’s nearly noon.”

A knock comes from the door and Hinata rushes by in a disguise Akaashi doesn’t have the chance to register.

“Dock Hollow,” Kuroo calls to the boy so he can click the dial to the right color before he opens the door to an elderly woman with a little girl at her hip.

Akaashi turns his face away from the door back to the fire, hiking up the blanket higher on his neck. He sits down while Kuroo continues his stretching. Eventually, the fire is warm enough to feel on his cheeks. He allows the warmth to slowly bring him to wakefulness.

At some point, he doesn’t know how long he sits there, Hinata comes up with leftover breakfast on one of the chipped plates. Akaashi could’ve sworn he had thrown it out.

“Here’s breakfast,” Hinata chirps. “Sorry it’s a bit cold.”

The door calls his attention away with another knock before Akaashi can respond. He stares at the plate of scrambled eggs. The fork Hinata gave him is actually clean for once. That perks him up enough to begin eating. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

Together, the fire and the food, although cold, burn through the sleepy haze of morning and bring his mind back into working order. He can’t allow himself to get lazy here. He was used to getting up early for work back home. There’s no reason he shouldn’t hold himself to that same responsibility and routine here. After all, this is still work. If he doesn’t, he certainly can’t take advantage of their hospitality.

He watches Kenma and Hinata return to their work at the table as he scrapes the last bit of egg from his plate. Everything seems so better organized in that corner of the room since yesterday. It pleases him to see the boys keeping it that way, too. He watches as Hinata hesitates before returning some kind of ingredient, trying to remember its new home. Akaashi sees the realization light on his face and how easily the container fits back into its designated home.

Standing up, he leaves the blanket hanging over the back of the chair. New motivation fills him as he cleans up the plates in the sink and puts them away. Hinata perks up as Akaashi passes by.

“Where’s Bokuto, Akaashi?” he asks. “We haven’t seen him at all today.”

“On normal days he’s up by now,” Kenma adds with a quick glance up the stairs.

Akaashi glances over at Kuroo who’s now napping by the fire, once again conveniently sleeping. He’s probably faking it, Akaashi thinks sourly. He guesses the cat hadn’t told them anything before Akaashi had gotten up. He sighs. Bokuto really had put the explaining on him.

“He left late last night,” Akaashi says and immediately the boys’ mouths open with complaints. Akaashi braces for the onslaught.

“But he promised!”

“We really do need help with this spell.”

“And he’s the one who’s supposed to be teaching it to us!”

“You’re being annoying,” Kuroo yowls from the fire. “Stop acting like spoiled brats.” His words have no effect on the complaints.

Holding his hands out, Akaashi tries to calm them. “Yes, but he said he’d be back this afternoon. I’m sure he will help then.” While Hinata continues to mutter to a silent pouting Kenma, Akaashi crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes brighten as an idea hits him. “I know what you two can do while you wait for Bokuto to return. I’m cleaning upstairs today so if there’s anything in your room you don’t want me to accidentally throw out—”

He watches with satisfaction as Hinata’s and Kenma’s eyes are blown wide. They gasp and jump to their feet, Hinata knocks over his chair and it clatters to the floor. Before Akaashi can get another word in, the two sprint up the stairs. He picks up Hinata’s chair before starting after them, distracted only for a moment hearing Kuroo chuckling behind him.

“Well you handled that well.”

Akaashi shrugs, a sly gaze sliding across the room toward the cat as a smile perks the corners of his lips. “What? I can think on my feet,” he says, grabbing the broom from the closet and donning the first step.

“Then it’s a good thing I hired you to clean the place. You’re already getting quite good at cleaning up Bokuto’s messes,” Kuroo says smugly.

“Hmph,” Akaashi grunts, his face falling blank once more, “it looks like someone has to around here.”

He can still hear Kuroo laughing at him as he continues up the stairs.

Akaashi bypasses the bathroom on the first landing. There’s no way he’s starting with that. It’s the kind of dirty that he’s never seen before. He can’t imagine someone in this house actually using it. He knows that if he starts now, he’ll get nothing done for the rest of the day, and it’ll still look the same as he started. No, he’ll need to devote a couple days to that project and he’ll need to gather his nerve first. Better to just keep going outside in the Wastelands until the castle’s bathroom is less hazardous.

Putting the bathroom behind him, Akaashi reaches the top floor. The boys’ door is cracked open, a sliver of light shines out, and he can hear them scrambling about. He wonders how much cleaner it will look by the time they’re done. Something falls to the ground with a loud _clack_ , causing him to flinch. It’ll probably be worse than what he’d seen last night, he assumes regretfully. The thought makes him grimace and turn away.

Would it be better to start with the Owl’s room then?

Is he even allowed to go in there?

He shakes those thoughts away, though his fingers twitch together in front of him. Of course he is. Or he should be. He’s here to clean the entire castle after all. A poor job he’d be doing if he did all but one room.

The bathroom, one part of his mind lingers on, a reminder.

Later, Akaashi thinks snappily in response. He _will_ get to it. Just not right this second.

He takes a few steps toward the looming door. It lies in the shadowy part of the hallway at the end, not illuminated by the light coming from the boys’ room. Akaashi takes his thumbnail between his teeth nervously, despite already ripping his nails down so low. He’s mentally preparing himself for what he might find. This is the Owl’s Castle after all and the Owl is the one to let it get so dirty. So dirty that that bathroom might just start giving Akaashi nightmares sooner or later.

But all of this is his doing, and Akaashi’s about to enter his personal domain. Something about that makes this feel entirely wrong. The hairs on the back on his neck are standing. So are the feathers, but he’s been trying to ignore that. He can practically feel them quivering. He bites down hard enough to chip the tip of his nail off.

Frustratingly, Akaashi snorts air through his nose, hand falling away from his mouth. “It’s just the magic,” he says. “It’s just a trick.”

And then, out of the corner of his eyes, he spots another door on his left. It almost seems to appear out of the growing shadows. Certainly it wasn’t there just a second ago. To prove it, Akaashi rubs his eyes until stars flash behind closed lids. He opens them again. No, the door is still there. It’s real alright. He tries thinking back to last night. Did he even look past the boys’ room? Sure he did. He remembers seeing Bokuto’s room at the end of the hall. But was this room here, too?

“It’s a magic house that does whatever it wants. Why am I thinking too hard about this?” he grumbles under his breath. This is true. It had squeezed a couch out of the floorboards and then made it disappear again. Even the walls themselves had opened up, providing his a nook to sleep in. Maybe it procured this door for him as well.

Whatever the reason, it’s a perfect excuse to avoid Bokuto’s room for just a moment longer. He turns off course and approaches this new room, leaning the broom against the wall. The door looks like all the others, wooden, plain with a brass knob. He reaches out to grab it, but lets go immediately. It’s warm. As if someone had just been along and was holding onto it. Like the gross lukewarm feeling metal gets, like all kinds of people just had their hands all over it. Or maybe it’s the feeling of being watched as he reaches his hand out to grasp it again. He cringes and steps inside, the door swinging closed behind him.

It’s a ordinary looking room, empty, and at first glance, it doesn’t seem to require much cleaning. The walls are a creamy white color, maybe smudged with some dust and dirt. They could be scrubbed down. The wooden floors have just a very slight layer of dust. It seems it’s been a while since anyone has entered, despite how the doorknob had felt.

“This won’t take long to clean,” Akaashi says softly, lifting his eyes to scan the ceiling. Thick cobwebs branch between rafters. By the time he got done here, the boys would surely be done cleaning as well. Then he could work on their room. That would mark down two more rooms officially clean, quite a bit of progress for the day.

Before he can go back out into the hallway to fetch his broom, he spots something at the opposite end of the room. The only other thing in here besides Akaashi. It’s a mirror. Framed in wood, which is actually polished, it stands just higher than he is. He realizes this after he finds his feet have carried him across the room to stand right in front of it. Upon closer inspection, he finds the wooden frame has to be the only thing in this entire room that’s actually clean. Even the glassy face of the mirror is coated with dust, thin enough that he can still see his reflection.

Of all the things to put in an empty room, but somehow it still stands out. Beneath the dust, it glints with some strange light, though the room remains gloomy around it. No windows offer any kind of natural lighting. Akaashi finds one bulb planted on the ceiling, a cord attached falls and coils at the ground, to turn on the light. The only problem is that the light bulb has shattered, only jagged edges remain. He searches the ground, but there’s no sign of broken glass anywhere. This room has lacked light for a long time it seems.

He turns his attention back to the mirror. It’s delicately carved, although in a simple manner. Still, a mirror alone in a room like this—Akaashi calls question to Bokuto’s vainness, something he hadn’t really thought about much until this moment.

He remembers the last time he stood in front of a mirror. Just a few days ago in fact, the night everything turned upside down. Honestly, the shop’s old and now broken mirror wasn’t too different than this one. Maybe that’s why he’s recalling that night again. But it’s more likely he sees his reflection for the first time since everything went black and he wrecked the tailor shop. He feels resentment boiling in his stomach, making him sick. However, it’s not just the resentment. It’s seeing his face.

If he stood far enough away, maybe the tiny feathers on his face could be mistaken for freckle. Far too many and ugly freckles at that, but at least they would appear normal, not turning him into some kind of freak. Some kind of monster.

He sees slightly longer feathers disappearing into his dark hair and more down his arms. His sleeves are rolled back for work, giving him a clear view of the abnormalities.

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue against the rough of his mouth hard and grimaces. The dark expression makes his face look even worse, twisted, but he can’t seem to let it fall away. The feathers disgust him.

Before he can really question the decision too much, he reaches out a hand and touches the mirror, watches the black claws that are his nail extend out to meet it and draw very slight lines through the dust. It hurts. He had already gnawed the black, dead looking nails down so he would run into any more problems with claws, but they still grow. They push past the torn skin on his fingers, just making it more painful. He grits his teeth and the pads of his middle and forefinger settle on the surface, enough to leave smudges.

Akaashi knows as well as anyone the dangers of tampering with magical objects. It’s just a mirror, but the fact that it’s in the Owl’s Castle of all places renders his argument invalid and him very, very stupid.

It’s just like last time. Maybe it’s an effect of the mirror, or mirrors in general. Or maybe it’s just because he feels anger blossoming at the sight of himself.

It’s not like he was ever fond of looking at his reflection in mirrors. But he’d rather look and see nothing at all than what this curse has done to him.

Maybe it’s a tiny ache of homesickness. A homesickness for normalcy. What used to be normal.

He doesn’t want to look into this mirror and see this.

But of course, that’s exactly what he gets.

It’s just like last time. He watches the feathers grow thicker along his arms, but this time he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t stumble back and shield his eyes. He watches the feathers sprout on his cheeks until they completely cover his face. It takes seconds. Pain accompanies the transformation, but he’s barely aware of it, nearly spellbound by the change taking place before his eyes. Black horns inch their way out of his skull, curving artfully as they grow. He grits his teeth and draws closer to the mirror. His breath steams and obscures his face. Claws grow long enough that the ones on the mirror puncture it, two small cracks stretching across the surface, directly through the image of his face. He winces.

His eyes are the last he sees as darkness tunnels his vision as if feathers are burying him alive. It certainly feels like it and with every inhale he’s pulling those feathers into his lungs. His eyes stare right back, glinting yellow as the face around them mutates and he can feel the creaking of his entire skull all the way along his jaw as it extends forward. Then they go black with his vision and darkness sweeps him away again. He’s grateful to go along with it.

*****

He’s in that room again. He remembers last time clearly now that he’s standing here in that strange, ever repeating hallway. It scares him. His palms sweat where they hang limply at his side. It’s the dim lighting, the way it flickers. It’s the mirrors that reflect everything so that it makes the room look like it could go on endlessly in every direction. It’s how he knows anything could happen here and he would be completely powerless against it.

The unknown happens here, but it has happened before.

He doesn’t know how, but he knows this. He feels it.

Slowly, he turns his head to his left. There’s a splotchy shadow there, staining the ground, as if someone should be sitting there, attached to it, but isn’t, or maybe invisible. That crying is back. It starts off as sniffles, but it slowly grows in volume. The shadow shifts with it, quivers. They’re one in the same.

Anything but this again, he thinks and starts running, leaping straight into a sprint. It’s gut instinct. Run. Keep running. Like an animal running for it’s life. This room—this place—wants something from him. He doesn’t know what, but he’d rather not have anything to do with it. He needs to get out.

If only it would allow him to actually run away. He finds himself approaching the shadow again, the volume of the crying increasing as he nears. He slows to a stop, panting. Is there really any point to all this running? he asks himself and a part of his mind screams, Yes! Yes, keep running! Anything to try and escape this hell. The logical side of his mind allows him to come to a grateful stop. He stares at the shadow as he catches his breath.

Why are you crying? he thinks. Akaashi finds that he’s too terrified to push any words past his lips. His mouth is too dry. The atmosphere feels as if it would steal the words right out of him if he were to only open his mouth. And why should it stop there? Maybe it would steal his breath away, too, leaving behind a dried out husk, reaming dead in this place forever.

Why are you crying? he thinks again at the wailing, trying to will the shadow to answer him.

Then suddenly, right before his eyes, a second shadow appears alongside the first, roughly the same size. The outlines of the shadows clear up and Akaashi guesses he’s staring at two children, sitting in a crouch.

“Why are you crying?”

The boy’s voice rings out clear and echoes. Akaashi nearly yells out in shock at the new sound and the way the crying subsides. That voice though—is it familiar?

His heart is beating too fast, as if he’d started running again. It just keeps beating, faster and faster. Panting, a hand over his chest, he backs away from the scene.

“Why are you crying?”

The voice must be attached to some kind of record, but catching on a scratch, doomed to repeat over and over again, the same way each time. That’s what Akaashi thinks anyway. Breathing hard, he continues to back away from the shadows of the boys.

“Why are you crying?”

It _is_ the same. The intonation, the very slight nasal tone to the boy’s voice, it’s all the same. The way the last word lifts at the end. All the same.

Akaashi tries to turn so he can run again but trips over his feet as they tumble together and he lands on his butt first, then hits his shoulders and head. Not even a gasp of pain can escape his lips. He squeezes his eyes closed, waiting to hear that question again. He thinks it will drive him insane if it keeps going. It’s even worse than the crying was.

Opening his eyes back up, he’s shocked to see someone else’s face—a blank face—leaning over him instead of seeing the ceiling. His mouth opens, but no sound is heard. He sits up abruptly and the person immediately backs out of the way. Akaashi whips around, staring over his shoulder as he braces himself on all fours. His heart pumps in his eyes.

A woman stands there. She’s wearing a pretty green dress with a collar. Her hands are tucked behind her back. Akaashi double-checks her face. It is indeed blank, a pale stretch of skin, but not skin alone. It skitters and jumps like static. It’s clearly trying to settle into some kind of image, but can’t. So it remains empty. Her dark hair is curly and frames that blank face and even without one, Akaashi can tell she’s still very pretty.

She steps closer and kneels down on one knee in front of him, staring right in his direction, even without eyes. Akaashi can feel his skin crawl. He wants to scramble away, even back to the boys’ shadows if that’s what it takes, but he’s completely frozen in place.

“Are you okay, Keiji?” she asks without any lips. “Did your brother hurt you?”

Akaashi can’t breathe. She said his name.

“It was an accident!” A muffled echo comes from somewhere. It’s familiar.

The woman shakes her head, then cocks it as if listening. She cups a hand around where her mouth should be. Her words are meant for Akaashi alone now, even though they’re the only ones here. “You ought to forgive someone like your brother, but I won’t make you if you don’t want to. Everyone will say you have to forgive and forget, but I won’t.”

“I’m sorry,” the other voice says faintly.

“It’s not always okay,” the woman continues to whisper to him.

*****

“What’re you doing here?”

He’s bewildered to hear his own voice being spoken to him. Akaashi opens his eyes. He’s back in the castle, in the room with the mirror, standing alone with his fingers still pressed to the surface. He watched the crack slowly shrink back to where his claw had punctured. It’s fixing itself. He lifts his eyes to his reflection’s face, taking in his appearance as he goes. The feathers have retreated back to normal, as normal as normal is for being covered with black feathers, for being cursed. His reflection is wearing a serious face, looking at him expectantly. He realizes it’s not just a reflection anymore.

“Huh?” he stutters out. The reflection doesn’t move as he does. He takes a step back, letting his hand drop away.

The reflection glares at him. “Why are you still here? Do you think the Owl is going to fix you? He either can’t or doesn’t care. What’s the point of staying?”

“The curse,” Akaashi mumbles.

“Exactly,” his reflection responds. “You’ve heard of Oikawa’s tricks. Do you want to turn into a beast like the rest of them?”

Akaashi blinks at himself. His reflection casts a disgusted glance down at his feather-covered arms in the mirror. “You’ll lose your humanity if you stay here. At some point, you won’t be able to turn back.” He plucks a feather out and studies it. “When you become a monster, do you think they’ll keep you around as a pet?” His eyes narrow sharply back at Akaashi. “No. So leave.”

The crack in the mirror disappears completely so that it’s one smooth pane of glass once more. Akaashi blinks. His reflection blinks in sink. Whatever had been talking to him, perhaps some spirit of the mirror, is now gone.

Unnerved to the point of breaking, Akaashi makes a sharp turn and promptly marches across the room and out the door. He slams it behind him. He pauses only to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Then he faces Bokuto’s door walks right up to it.

That mirror room can stay dirty, thank you very much. He will not be going in there a second time. No. Not ever again. Whatever all that was—it was far too much magic for his liking. Too much for him.

But it was right. What is he doing here? Cleaning this castle is completely pointless. The only one to even mention a breaking his curse was Kuroo and that was probably just a front to help Bokuto out. He scowls at the thought. No, he is not going to allow himself to be used here. Perhaps he will take the mirror’s advice. Perhaps he will leave.

Amidst the craze, he has somehow lost his fear of entering the Owl’s room. It would be nothing compared to everything else he’d just experienced. He places his hand on the knob, but before he can make another move, he feels it turn in his grasp and he springs away, jumping back.

Bokuto slips out into the hallway, not even giving Akaashi a chance at peeking through to what mysteries might lay beyond. The owl beams upon seeing him, but Akaashi doesn’t think it’s mere coincidence that he’s intercepting him. Closing the door swiftly behind him, Bokuto leans casually against the doorframe.

“No, I don’t think so,” he says still with that Cheshire grin. He reaches up and lightly taps Akaashi on the nose.

Akaashi blinks, momentarily confused. “What?”

“You’re coming to clean, but that’s not necessary here.” He reaches out with the same finger and spins Akaashi away by his shoulder, then gives him a little push. Akaashi glances behind him and glares at the mistreatment. “I want it dirty, thank you,” Bokuto replies brightly to Akaashi’s dark look.

Akaashi turns back around to confront him. “You’re back already?” he asks.

Bokuto starts away from his door, walking directly at Akaashi so that he has no choice but to backtrack quickly away. He hopes he doesn’t trip over his own feet. “I told you I wouldn’t be gone long.”

Akaashi spots dark circles under his eyes before Bokuto sidesteps around him to go down the stairs. “And your room—”

He pauses on the first step before grinning over his shoulder at Akaashi, brighter than ever. “I like it exactly the way it is.”

“But you want me to clean the castle.”

Before Akaashi can get much further with his argument, Bokuto holds up a finger, stopping him. “You have free range of the castle. Do whatever you want. Just not my room. I have the right to live in a mess if I want. That’s what I want. So go and find something else to do. Please.”

Bokuto can be strangely commanding when he wants to be, Akaashi finds. Any other arguments that Akaashi can think of are quickly pushed aside as Bokuto suddenly reaches out and takes his hands.

“That looks like it hurts,” he says, peering at Akaashi’s fingernails.

He blushes, not used to anyone so bluntly pointing out his bad habits.

“You shouldn’t bite your nails, Akaashi,” Bokuto continues, releasing his hands.

They don’t hurt anymore. Akaashi presses them together, then even pinches them. Though they’re still low, his fingers aren’t completely torn apart. He looks back up at Bokuto who’s no longer looking at him. Any words of thanks are interrupted as the boys run out their room. The door blasts open and bangs loudly against the wall as they teeter on top of the stairs in front of Bokuto.

“You’re back!” Hinata cheers.

“Will you help us now?” Kenma asks.

“Of course!” Bokuto sings.

And the three head downstairs, leaving Akaashi forgotten behind them. He approaches the stairs, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of him. “Wait, is your room ready?” he calls down to the boys, but nobody hears. He doesn’t get a response.

So he cleans their room anyway. It all goes by in a blur. His mind is too busy thinking. Should he leave? Should he not leave? He has to admit, his reflection or the mirror or whatever it was is right. Staying here is not going to break his curse. His best bet is to find Oikawa himself.

Hinata has a lot of junk shoved under his bed where he probably suspected it would be well hidden from Akaashi. Kenma’s side is relatively neat, but Akaashi finds a bunch of stuff crammed into drawers. He leaves their junk be. Instead, he sweeps and makes beds, all while searching for the ever-persistent cobwebs. The castle is full of them. After all, he thinks, Bokuto was right. Who was he to come in and turn their rooms inside out? He was doing enough damage to the rest of the castle. Surely if they wanted their rooms to be messy, he shouldn’t have a say in it. He sighs at the ground. Unconsciously, he lifts his thumb back up to chew on the nail. If he’s not going to fully clean their room, and he’s been distinctly forbidden from Bokuto’s, there’s still the bathroom and the mirror room.

That thought alone makes him cringe.

Leaving would be a perfect enough excuse to never have to think about cleaning, or even entering, those rooms again.

Leaving would solve so many problems.

Leaving would force him to face the curse head on.

It’s a thought that fills him with anxiety, but he finds himself strangely excited. Actually, he pauses, examining his reaction more closely. It might just be that he’s jittery. Yes, he thinks. His hands shake on the broom handle.

But he needs to leave. He needs to do this.

His mind made up, he heads for the stairs.

His goodbyes are already on his lips, but he finds the room deserted. There’s only Kuroo sleeping by the fireplace. Bokuto, Hinata, and Kenma are gone. Akaashi feels his shoulders sag. He hesitates at the bottom of the stairs. Should he just leave then? He’s undecided again.

That moment of hesitation is enough time for Kuroo to wake and spot him. Immediately, he’s suspicious. Akaashi can tell by the way the cat eyes him.

“Where have they gone?” he asks quickly before the cat can get the chance to speak first.

Kuroo yawns widely, showing off his teeth. It’s strangely intimidating. “Out,” he says. He nods toward the door. “Not too far. You can probably see them from here.”

Akaashi approaches the door and when he opens it, he’s surprised to find the Wasteland stretching out before him. He had expected to see Dock Hollow. He never thought that going out into the Wasteland could be enjoyable or pleasant or even a way to spend the day, but he finds Bokuto and the boys off in the distant fields that are now surrounding the castle.

“Weren’t we on a cliff last time?” Akaashi asks, turning to look at Kuroo skeptically.

Kuroo shrugs. “The castle goes wherever Bokuto wants. He has markers placed throughout the Wasteland,” he explains.

Akaashi looks back out the door, leaning against the doorframe. A cool breeze blows in and he hugs himself against it. The weather changes quickly out here. He spots them again. The boys are running about Bokuto who is holding something. They’re all staring up to the sky. Akaashi raises his eyes as well to spy a kite. Bokuto hands it off to Hinata who stills now with the responsibility. Kenma hangs off his shoulder as they direct the kite, making sure it doesn’t crash. Turning to face back toward the castle, Bokuto waves. Perhaps he spots Akaashi standing at the door. Or maybe he just assumes someone must be watching. Akaashi raises a hand slightly in return, though Bokuto won’t see it. He’s gesturing wildly, so he does see Akaashi. He wants him to come out with them.

“Akaashi!” he yells faintly. It’s nearly lost in the wind.

Akaashi smiles, but shakes his head. Here he is, standing right at the doorway of the castle. He’s ready to leave, but it holds onto him. He just can’t—at least not with them watching. He couldn’t. He turns away, shutting the door softly, and walks over to join Kuroo by the fire.

They are silent for a while, just listening to the fire crackle in front of them. One of the few good things about Kuroo is that he never expects a conversation. Akaashi could sit next to him like this and be silent all evening. It’ll be getting time for dinner pretty soon. He wonders if he should prepare something. No. He’ll leave that for someone else. They made it fine without him before. They better start getting used to it again.

No, he can’t think of dinner and he can’t just sit here silently with Kuroo, as nice as that thought is. He looks at Kuroo, who’s cleaning himself. The cat freezes mid-lick, eyes moving to lock with Akaashi’s. Slowly, he lowers his leg and shakes himself so that his fur lies flat.

“What?” he asks flatly, his eyes falling into a suspecting squint.

“About Bokuto’s story last night,” Akaashi starts off slowly. “Why _did_ Oikawa start cursing people?”

Kuroo rolls his eyes and goes back to cleaning. “What—you don’t think,” he responds between licks, “that he could just be a dick.”

“Maybe,” Akaashi hums, amused, “but it has to be something else.”

Pausing, Kuroo looks back up at him. “Sure, but I’ve never actually met the guy. Plenty of rumors go around, but can you ever really believe those?”

“What do you think?”

“I think…” but then he cuts himself off with a rough shake. A nasty grin spread itself across his mouth. “There was a big rumor that he had his heart stolen by a demon and that’s why he went around cursing everyone, so he could feed it.” His face falls expressionless once more as he runs his tongue over a paw. “So you can believe that one if you like.”

“But what do you think about the rumor? Is it true?”

Kuroo shoots him a dark scowl. “No, people say the same thing about Bokuto.”

“And does he?” Akaashi asks, anxious to learn more about the Owl.

“How should I know? But I _don’t_ think Oikawa’s was.”

“You don’t.”

“No, but if you’re so curious, why don’t you go ask him yourself? He doesn’t live too far away. We’re practically neighbors out here, or the second best thing.”

Tilting his head to the side, Akaashi plants his chin on his fist. “But I thought Oikawa was after Bokuto. Why would he be living so close?”

Kuroo gives him a look that says, _And how would you know that?_ but doesn’t say it out loud. It’s true though. Akaashi wouldn’t know if it hadn’t been for Oikawa basically telling him outright, but he keeps his mouth shut about that. He has to “Bokuto seems to think hiding right under his nose is best. Close, but out of sight. I can’t argue. It’s worked so far.”

Akaashi thinks hard on this, staring off into the flames, unaware that Kuroo is now watching him closely. He wouldn’t put it past Kuroo to put this all together. He’s smart enough. He might even know that Akaashi is planning on leaving.

“He lives to the west,” he says at last, tail flicking in the general direction, “in the poppy fields. That’s if you leave from this location. From here, we’re the closest.” He pauses, studying Akaashi carefully. “We’ll stay here until dawn,” he continues at last, granting Akaashi his perfect opportunity.

It’ll be tonight or never then.

Nodding to himself, Akaashi stands. “I should get back to work,” he says simply and heads upstairs, leaving Kuroo blinking after him.

After dinner, he thinks to himself as he climbs. That’s when I’ll do it. That’s when I’ll leave.

*****

An hour later, he has the upstairs hallways swept and mopped. The door to the mirror room has vanished, proving he isn’t crazy and that it was not there last night after all. He breathes a sigh of relief. He would’ve bee nervous to clean up there otherwise.

Bringing his cleaning supplies back downstairs to put away, Akaashi smells dinner cooking. Once everything is neatly in the closet, he turns to survey the room. A big pot is set over the fire and Kenma stands nearby, stirring occasionally. Hinata rushes past Akaashi, pausing for an instant to grin up at him with a “Hey Akaashi!” before continuing to the table. All of their work from earlier has been put away. Leaning against the wall out of the way, Akaashi watches them proudly. A few days ago, they would’ve simply pushed things aside and he’d seen enough of their papers and scrolls with a number of food stains on them.

These boys are fast learners, he thinks fondly. He keeps a smile from quirking his lips. Now’s not the time to find himself attached to them.

He walks over to Kenma and looks over his shoulder. “What’s for dinner?” he asks.

“Soup,” Kenma replies. “It’s almost done so go sit down.” He points to the table with his spoon, but then quickly moves it back to the pot to keep anything from dripping on Akaashi’s clean floors.

Akaashi smiles and ruffles the boy’s hair, chuckling lightly as Kenma’s grumbles follow him across the room. He sits does just as Hinata places a bowl and a spoon in front of him.

“Thanks,” he says, offering another smile, and Hinata practically beams back at him.

Funny, Akaashi thinks. Bokuto has really rubbed off on Hinata. He’s so loud and excitable, just like the Owl. He glances back at Kenma. Perhaps that one is more like Kuroo, if he had to guess. Both open their mouths widely as they yawn simultaneously. Akaashi’s smile grows. Yup, these two apprentices are definitely learning a lot here, and not all of it magic. He wonders if Bokuto even realizes. As scatterbrained and irresponsible as he is, Akaashi has to admit that he’s doing a good job with these two. He thinks back to the image earlier that afternoon out in the fields. He’s sure it had to do something with magic lesson or a spell, but he can’t help but to think of how normal it seemed.

The door opens, interrupting the rest of his thoughts, and Bokuto enters. He wipes the back of a hand across his forehead, leaving a trail of dirt and Akaashi realizes how muddy his hands are. Bokuto approaches the table with a smile directed at him.

“Just started to rain,” he announces cheerfully. “Looks like a stormy night ahead.”

Akaashi glances down and scowls. Bokuto hasn’t even thought to remove his shoes. Muddy footprints mark up the floors. He points to them. “Shoes. Off.”

Bokuto’s eyes go wide. He glances quickly down at the path he’s made, then down in the direction Akaashi points. _Oh_ , his mouth forms and he hurries back to the door to take off his shoes. Of course, this only leaves a second trail. Akaashi rubs a hand over his face. Without removing it, he hears Bokuto trot back over to the table.

“No,” Akaashi says slowly, just as a chair scrapes signaling Bokuto about to sit down. Akaashi drops his hand to point to the wink, glaring at him. “Wash your hands first.”

“Ah,” Bokuto says, holding his hands up to his face, realizing for the first time how dirty they are. He pushes himself back to his feet and does as he’s told.

With a sigh, Akaashi also stands. He follows Bokuto to grab a rag from beside the sink and returns to scrub the table where Bokuto has left muddy handprints. He’s completely oblivious, Akaashi thinks, tossing the rag back into the sink. Kenma carries over the pot of soup and Hinata brings a plate of bread, toasted. They’ve impressed Akaashi again. If only their master could do the same. Out of everyone—except maybe Kuroo, who doesn’t really do much of anything around here—Bokuto is the only one who hasn’t changed in the slightest with Akaashi’s presence in the castle. Sitting back down, he’s not quite sure how he feels about this.

Bokuto is the last to sit down at the head of the table. His elbow brushes Akaashi’s as he reaches to dish the soup out. He continues to bump elbows as they eat. Akaashi considers moving out of Bokuto’s way, but instead he chooses to ignore it. He’s too distracted by the way his stomach knots anyway. He can barely take more than a few bites of soup. In the end, he’s left sipping at the broth while the kids and Bokuto chatter. Kuroo’s too busy lapping away to take part in the conversation, but he follows it carefully with his eyes, constantly shifting back and forth.

Every so often, Akaashi has to remind himself that he’s leaving. The warmth of this room, the buzzing conversation as Bokuto quizzes the boys on certain spells and quickly corrects Hinata when he completely confuses a growth spell for plants and an enlargement spell for just about everything else.

A part of him doesn’t want to. He wants to stay.

But soon the castle will be completely clean and there will be no better reason to stay here. Best to get out now like the mirror said.

“What do you think, Akaashi?”

“Huh?” He breaks off his stare into the soup bowl and looks up at Bokuto. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“We’re going to market tomorrow!” Hinata answers. “Will you come with us like you did last time?”

Akaashi blinks at him in bewilderment.

“If you don’t, who knows what they’ll pick out for dinner,” Kuroo drawls. “Someone responsible should go with them.”

He scans the table. They’re all looking at him expectantly. “Oh, um, sure,” he says in an offhanded tone and quickly goes back to his soup. He’s not hungry in the slightest, but he takes a big bite so he doesn’t have to say more.

“Great,” Bokuto says, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. He stands and starts removing the dishes from the table. He even swipes Akaashi’s bowl right out from under him.

“Oh, I can—”

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Hinata volunteers, sticking his hand into the air.

“I’ll dry,” Kenma adds and they help Bokuto take things to the sink.

Kuroo jumps down from his seat, thudding to the ground, and also heads over. He jumps up on the tile and Kenma and Hinata shove at him.

“Move!” Hinata growls with effort.

“You’re too big!” Kenma says.

Kuroo snorts at the treatment. “Rude,” he sniffs and tries to squeeze himself in the corner so he can watch.

Must be nice, he thinks. For a moment, he stays where he is, just watching the four of them clean up dinner. It’s a sleepy kind of warm. He could join and help, too. It’s a bit crammed and Hinata’s already half soaked, but it looks like fun. Kenma complains that Kuroo’s getting cat hair all over the clean dishes. Kuroo acts like he can’t here. Akaashi could spend the rest of the evening listening to them go on.

He casts a quick glance out the window. It’s already getting dark. By tomorrow morning, he won’t have a chance to find Oikawa.

It’s now or never.

He sighs silently through his nose and stands, bracing his hands on the table. Then he straightens. “I’m going out for a walk,” he announces into the noise. Nobody turns or replies. Bokuto’s too busy flicking soap bubbles at Hinata and both he and Kenma and giggling and protecting their faces while Kuroo hisses, backing himself even further into the corner. Akaashi grabs his jacket, checks that the dial is set correctly, and steps outside.

He digs his hands deep into his pockets and starts off, trying not to look back. He knows what he’ll see. The castle will be shining with the light of the fire, like a beacon in the Wasteland’s darkness, and inside he’ll know the sounds of happy laughter will be bubbling.

It’s a good life there, he thinks, but not one he can necessarily fit into. He thought he might, with his curse and all these feathers. But he was wrong. It’s not that simple. No, he belongs to the Wasteland with the rest of Oikawa’s cursed beasts. Before he loses his humanity altogether, he’s planning on having a little chat with Oikawa about that.

The air is misty and it clings to his clothes and his hair, even his feathers. He shakes himself but it does no good. It’s not raining anymore like Bokuto had said it was earlier, but he can see it on the horizon. It’s coming. There’s a slight gap where he can see the vicious red of the sunset and then the blacks and grays of the gathering storm clouds above. Flashes of thunder crackle between the clouds. He shivers and heads toward them, west, like Kuroo had said.

“Akaashi!”

Wincing, Akaashi freezes and wishes he could keep walking, ignoring the call that comes from the distance, but he knows he has to turn around and face Bokuto. He can’t just keep going. Bokuto won’t be ignored.

“Akaashi!” he calls again.

Akaashi sighs and turns around to watch Bokuto run up to him. It doesn’t take long. He’s still not that far away from the castle.

He was right. It does look warm and comforting looking back on it. It stands prettily in the dark, the lower windows bright with the fire that’s burning inside. Bokuto stops in front of him, panting, but grinning ear to ear.

“It’s going to rain soon, Akaashi,” he says. “Come back to the castle.”

Taking a step back, Akaashi gives a decisive shake of his head. “I can’t, Bokuto.”

Bokuto gives him a look as if he’s being silly. “Take a walk another time. Or we can go to Dock Hollow if you want. I’m sure the weather’s much better there.” He holds out a hand for Akaashi to take.

A warm evening walk in Dock Hollow does sound nice. The sound of waves lapping against the docks and the skies void of storm clouds… Akaashi stares at the offered hand, but can’t accept.

“Bokuto, I’m leaving.”

“For how long?” His hand remains outstretched.

Looking away, Akaashi shrugs. He should be doing a much better job of appearing confident in his decision. “I don’t know. A while maybe.”

“But Hinata and Kenma—you said you’d go with them.”

“Sorry, I won’t be able to watch them tomorrow. You’ll have to tell them for me.”

How cruel. How cruel it is to spin Bokuto’s own request back onto him like this. Akaashi doesn’t want to say goodbye to the boys. They’ll have questions, and Akaashi has to leave now.

“They’ll be so disappointed. You can’t—”

Akaashi’s eyes snap sharply up to Bokuto’s face, enough to cut him off. “I have a lot of things I need to take care of,” he says, trying to explain calmly, “and I can’t just sit around babysitting.” No, that came out wrong. He doesn’t mean it like that, but he can’t think of a way to take back the words or say anything redeemable.

Frowning, Bokuto’s head tilts to the side, but when he doesn’t say anything in response, Akaashi turns around and continues walking. He’s taken only about ten steps when Bokuto’s voice erupts behind him.

“But you can’t leave, Akaashi! We need you!”

Akaashi huff angrily and whips back around. Spreading his arms out, he asks, “What do you want from me, then?” he calls back to Bokuto. The rumbling of the storm is drawing closer. It has already swallowed the red of the sunset. Bokuto stares at him blankly. “Do you want me to keep cleaning your castle for you? Do you enjoy he feathers getting everywhere? I certainly don’t! Do you want me to sit around and wait for Oikawa’s—” A coughing fit interrupts him as he nearly swallows his tongue. Bending over, he hacks into the ground, hugging his stomach as he tries to catch his breath. He lifts his head just enough to find Bokuto’s eyes again. “I won’t just stay here as your pet.”

And when he looks down again, his skin is gone and his stomach drops. He didn’t mean for his anger to get so out of hand. When he looks up, Bokuto’s staring at him, hard. He’s not surprised like Akaashi had expected him to be. Now, he sees pity instead, a knowing sort of sadness. That makes Akaashi’s anger even worse.

“So let me leave!” he finds his voice yelling as the winds pick up, tearing at his growing feathers, “and I’ll do this on my own.”

*****

“Why are you crying?”

Akaashi reaches up to wipe at his cheeks. He’s not. He looks around for the source of the voice. He’s in that hallway again. He finds the two little boys’ shadows and hears the question repeated as the other sniffles and rubs at his face.

He shouldn’t be here. At a brisk pace, he walks away from the shadows. He needs to be back with Bokuto. Leaving.

He almost walks straight into his father. His eyes go wide.

“Okay, boys,” he says in his deep commanding voice. His head swings to look to either side of Akaashi though not at Akaashi directly. “I have made the final arrangements for your apprenticeships. Do your best and learn everything you can.”

“Yes, sir!” a pair of voices ring out.

Backtracking, Akaashi turns away from his father and back past the shadows. They’re talking in whispers now to each other. He doesn’t bother stopping to try and hear what they’re saying. He doesn’t ever remember having an apprenticeship. He glances up.

There’s the woman again with her static face. She walks right up to him and cups his face with her delicate fingers. As much as he wants to pull away, her cold hands hold him in place. She tilts his head one way and then another, looking him over despite her lack of eyes. Cheeks lift as if she’s smiling.

“He’s a good boy,” she says. “Always polite. A bit loud, but I think you’d like him.”

She pulls him close even though he stays as rigid as a board, one hand on his shoulder, the other only the back of his head. It threads lovingly through his hair. “Talk to him, Keiji,” she whispers. “I have a good feeling about this one. He’s special.”

She dissolves right in front of him and his hands reach out, trying to grab onto her so that maybe she’ll stay a little longer, tell him more. A light tug on his sleeve distracts him. He turns around.

It’s a boy this time. He’s staring down at something in his hands so Akaashi can’t see his face—or if he even has one. His messy hair is a grayish color.

“This one’s my favorite, but I really want you to have it, Keiji.” His head lifts and he holds out his hands for Akaashi.

Instead of puzzling over why the boy’s hands are empty, Akaashi is caught by his face. His heart stops. He’d recognize that smile, those big golden eyes anywhere, even on the face of a young boy. He feels his face twisting with the shock of recognition.

“Bokuto?”

*****

The beast has Bokuto on his back, claws pressing down on his throat, but Bokuto isn’t thinking about breathing. It lifts its head up and lets out a roaring screech to the sky before barring back down on Bokuto, growling in hot puffs of breath into his face.

It’s a dragon-like creature, covered with Akaashi black feathers. Horns curve upward out of its head. Bat-like wings flap useless behind. They’re torn, shredded, and they’ll never carry the beast in flight.

“Oh, Keiji,” Bokuto sighs, running his hands over the beast’s muzzle, carding through the feathers with his fingers. The lips twitch over long fang at Bokuto’s touch, but doesn’t snap. Its dark eyes roll wildly, no sign of Akaashi left.

Bokuto slides one hand between those eyes while the other run along its jaw. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay.”

He feels his hands warm and he calls Akaashi back.

*****

He fights through blurring vision, blinking hard, gasping. He’s on his hands and knees, muddy from the wet ground. He sees his hand, though he doesn’t recognize it at first. It’s twisted like a beast’s, all feathered and clawed and wrapped around something pale. It’s Bokuto’s neck. His eyes go wide and he quickly releases it, planting it next to his head instead.

Bokuto’s hands are on his face. One cups his jaw, thumb slowly caressing his cheek. The other runs through his hair all the way to rest at the crook of his neck. He’s smiling up at Akaashi.

It happened again, Akaashi realizes. His muscles go slack and that drops his face close enough to Bokuto’s that their noses nearly touch. He doesn’t move though, not at first, even though he’s breathing right into the other’s face. He lifts his eyes to meet Bokuto’s. They seem to shine even in the darkness. Rain has started falling and Akaashi finds he’s drenched.

Still, those strange golden eyes. Akaashi can’t believe that even Bokuto has started haunting that other place. The other place is filled with unknowns so of course it’s only fitting that Bokuto appear there as well.

His head drops lower so that their foreheads brush. Akaashi lingers only a second more, allowing himself to be held, to feel secure. Then he pushes himself up and off of Bokuto. His hands fall away so that he’s lying in the mud, arms spread wide. His eyes follow Akaashi as he stands and he has no choice but to offer his own cool stare in return.

Words should be filling this empty space, shielding away the rain and cold and the silence, but there are none. If anything, Akaashi has proved why words will never be necessary. Seeing the complete monster is enough to explain why he has to leave and it explains why he can’t stay in the castle. It explains why he really is just destined to be in the Wasteland with all the other beasts.

“So that’s why I’m leaving,” he says with finality, blinking rainwater from his eyes. Then he turns and continues to where the sun had vanished.

He’s grateful he doesn’t hear Bokuto getting up to follow, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look over his shoulder just to make sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I should be back on a regular updating schedule. I'm partaking in NaNoWriMo so I'm writing A LOT (today I wrote over 3,000 words to get this up in time). So that explains all the little oneshots you'll be seeing. But I also promise that I'm hard at work on this story.
> 
> Also, if you're interested in requesting prompts, I have a bunch on my tumblr, [silentmarco](silentmarco.tumblr.com), for oneshots: [astronomy](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com/post/152611404036/another-nanowrimo-post), [fluffy prompts](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com/post/152201683386/101-fluffy-prompts)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :)


	6. Poppies are Better in Paintings

The storm picks up and darkness falls completely. The winds blast into Akaashi’s face, blowing his hair back and forcing him to lean over as he walks in order to keep on his feet. Lightning above sheds brief light on the Wasteland and it shows just how truly terrifying it can be. Fortunately, he doesn’t see any creatures wandering about in a storm like this. No, it is just him out here alone, drenched down to the bone. His jacket proves to be just a flimsy piece of material that does little to really protect him from the night’s chill.

He feels like he’s gone on for miles. There’s no use in turning around now, he’d only get himself more lost than he already is. He tries to keep on course, heading west, but the winds knock and pull at him. They throw him into the ground so that he becomes a muddy mess. He can’t be sure if he’s still heading in the right direction. There’s no way to tell for sure, the thick clouds overhead block out any stars.

Lightning breaks open the sky once more and Akaashi stops, waiting for the next flash. It comes and he takes a quick look at his surroundings. The fields stretch endlessly in every direction. The winds howl over their emptiness. There’s only the tall grass that whips back and forth. Akaashi feels that’s exactly what this storm is doing to him.

Well, he was the one that wanted to seclude himself in the Wasteland.

How _stupid_.

Did he really think that punishing himself would help break the curse? He should’ve just waited. Honestly, did he expect the curse to take over completely during the night? No. He had time. He has time. He could’ve come up with a better plan if he had only just been patient. Now he’ll probably freeze to death out here in this storm. Unless lightning strikes him first.

Damn that mirror.

He promises that if he ever makes it back to the Owl’s Castle he’ll smash it for good.

He sighs and is about to continue onward when a great force knocks into him, sending Akaashi to the ground. It’s too strong, too sudden, to be the wind. He yells out, cut off by a face full of mud. Quickly pushing himself to his hands and knees, he searches in the dark for what had attacked him, spitting the mud from his mouth at the same time.

Happy barking breaks through the sounds of the storm. A flash allows him to see the dog jumping around playfully in front of him. Then it bounds forward, close enough that he doesn’t need any extra light to see, close enough to give his face a good washing with its tongue.

“Gross,” Akaashi mutters, wiping his wet sleeve over his face and getting to his feet. He can still feel the mud in between his teeth. “You look happy with yourself.”

It’s the same goofy dog from before, the one that had led him to the Owl’s Castle and then straight up left him there. He can’t decide if he’s happy or not to see the big greyhound.

With that thought, the dog jumps up onto its hind legs to plant its front paws onto Akaashi’s chest. As if he wasn’t muddy enough already. It gives him another lick from chin to forehead. His feathers get caught in the sticky saliva and stand upright, waiting for the rain to flatten them once more.

“That’s enough of that,” Akaashi says sternly, taking the dog’s paws and backing him up so he can stand back down on all for legs.

It continues to bark, booming loud like the thunder overhead and prancing around Akaashi, tail whipping back and forth. It’s obviously happy to see Akaashi, while he’s still second-guessing the spontaneous additional company.

Akaashi starts off again and the dog immediately presses up against his legs. After a few unsuccessful attempts to push him away, he ignores it and tries to keep from tripping.

“You’re not going to like where we’re going this time,” Akaashi says without looking down.

Cocking its head, the greyhound tips its big head to look at Akaashi. He would even go as far as to say it gives him a questioning look.

It’s hard not paying mind to the dog’s strange sentience. It makes his skin crawl. “We’re going to see a sorcerer called Oikawa.”

Akaashi doesn’t get more than his name out before the dog is backing away, hackles raises, teeth bared, growling. With another sigh, Akaashi stops as well. It’s clear the dog recognizes Oikawa’s name and does not like him at all. Its tail is tucked between its legs.

“Don’t give me that,” Akaashi says, his hands on his hips. “You invited yourself along. If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself, you know.” With that, he turns back around and resumes walking. The wind has lessened some. Perhaps that’s a sign the storm is nearing its end.

Whining loudly, the dog nervously kneads the muddy ground with its paws. It glances around the Wasteland then up ahead at Akaashi, over its shoulder, at Akaashi again then to the sopping wet ground. Its paws have begun to sink into the mud. Finally, it lets out a bark and, with a great leap, races after Akaashi. Though its tail is still tucked, it wags.

“Alright, alright. You can come along then, if you promise to behave.”

It whines again, opening and closing its mouth to create a strange noise that almost has Akaashi laughing.

“What, I didn’t have a choice?”

The dog barks an affirmative.

“Then you better know the way.”

It seems to huff out a sigh and this time Akaashi really does laugh.

“Okay then, I’m right behind you.” He pauses, glancing down at the dog. “So you know Oikawa?”

Grumbling a noise, it looks off in the opposite direction, distinctly away from Akaashi.

“I see, so is he family? An ex?” Akaashi asks, poking fun at his new traveling companion. The dog snorts at that last one. “No? Okay, well you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

It does the weird open-mouthed whine again and it nearly turns into a howl at the end.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t actually speak dog.”

The dog’s ears perk and then fall, looking disappointed.

“Was I that believable?”

The dog directs a halfhearted growl at him.

Akaashi chuckles at that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, you dumb dog.”

They fall into silence. Strangely, Akaashi finds it easier to face the endless wilderness before him with the dog at his side. It’s comforting knowing that no matter what comes, at least this big dog is here. Even if he would probably just run away. Akaashi has no doubts.

Hours into the night, the storm finally fades. He watches the clouds roll across the sky, listens to the thunder grow fainter and fainter. Lightning ceases to flash. At some time around midnight, maybe later since he has little concept of time out in the Wasteland, the moon appears. It shines and the field surrounding them seems to reflect the star-filled sky above. The moonlight sparkles off the damp grass where raindrops still hang, suspended on the long stalks.

Akaashi watches the dog trot ahead of him, occasionally glancing back to be sure he’s still following. Its longhaired coat is damp and matted from the rain. Akaashi considers giving him a good brushing when this journey is finally over. He owes the dog that much for coming along after all. Maybe they’ll return to the Owl’s Castle, if they can find it a second time. He’s sure the greyhound can find it again.

That would be nice. Akaashi can’t help but to yearn for it. This feeling is a different kind of homesickness, he supposes. For some reason, he can’t help but to think of when Bokuto had left that one night. How he had grabbed Akaashi’s face tightly and made him promise to protect his family. How he had kissed his forehead so warmly. The thought makes Akaashi feel incredibly cold now. Was he backing out of that promise by leaving?

They rest every so often beneath the sparse and spindly tress they happen upon. It’s not like they offer much protection from the night’s chilly winds that still blow, but it feels more comfortable with something, even a thin trunk, at his back. The greyhound lays down on his feet. It’s warm. Even though he can feel the dampness soaking through his pants, it’s almost nice, almost peaceful. All of his clothes are damp and cling to him and he shivers. The dog’s body heat is only enough to keep his feet warm.

Akaashi lifts his head and stares up at the stars while exhaustion tugs at him. His eyelids threaten to droop. When he feels like he’s about to doze off for good, he pushes himself to his feet, startling the dog who might’ve actually been napping. It shakes itself, but that does little for its matted fur. However, it does succeed in showering Akaashi with tiny droplets that have a distinct wet dog smell.

Next stop, Akaashi thinks. Maybe on their next stop they can take a longer rest and nap, but not yet.

On they go, their feet dragging through the high grass and mud where the land gets swampy underfoot.

*****

Dawn blooms a pale pink in the sky behind them and Akaashi watches the stars dot out one-by-one. The darkness before them seems to pull back, slowly, and disappear behind the horizon. It’s still gloomy though, an after effect from the rain, and the grass is high as they trudge up a hill. While dawn is just appearing in the distance on their backs, Akaashi feels more like a dreadful darkness is approaching instead. The greyhound bounds ahead of him and comes to a stop at the top of the slope. It paces a bit, tail tucked, and glances back at Akaashi. It gives him a hard stare that makes it look like it thinks Akaashi’s walking slow on purpose. He’s not. He’s just tired. It’s been a long, wet, and cold night.

He stops next to the dog to take in the sight extending before them. It makes sense why darkness seemed so close. Really, the view isn’t so dark. If anything, it’s—off-putting.

At the base of the hill, a field of poppies grow, bright red, almost like a painting. It’s just as Kuroo had said. Beyond the poppies, a dark castle stands, just a bit larger than the Owl’s. It’s black and dim looking, but it’s the bright poppies in contrast that make it seem so unbalanced.

Akaashi had always figured the Vanishing Castle had seemed unapproachable due to the fog and the mysteriousness a sorcerer’s castle automatically exudes, but this one is unapproachable on an entirely different level. Maybe it’s also knowing who dwells there, like a sleeping lion in its den, Akaashi doesn’t want to disturb it willingly. He just has no other choice. The Owl was always just a mystery and with sorcerers it’s always best to assume the worst. Now he knows what Oikawa’s capable of and his imagination can run wild picturing even worse scenarios.

He glances down at the dog who looks back up at him. It lets out a whine and wags its tail a bit between its legs at the attention.

“Well, the only thing we can do now is to keep moving forward,” he says, pointing toward the castle. “We’re nearly there.”

The dog whines again, this time lolling out its tongue and panting anxiously.

Akaashi looks between it and the castle, equally as nervous. “Come on, I’ll lead the way.” Though the grass is not so wet anymore from the rain, it’s still covered in dew. He takes careful steps so he doesn’t slip on the way down.

He continues his slow pace as he enters the red flowers, letting his hands trail at his sides to brush over the petals. He’s never seen poppies in the wild like this before. Actually, he’s never seen any wild flowers, especially not so many in one place like this. He might’ve caught a glimpse of poppies in a flower shop or something, but this is a view to behold.

If only it were easy to block out the looming castle ahead of them.

“Have you ever seen something like this before?” he asks the dog, who wades through the flowers like water, tilting his head upward. It rolls its eyes at him and Akaashi figures it’s probably been out in the Wasteland a lot longer than he has. It probably got to see a whole lot more breathtaking sights before Akaashi found it caught in that tree.

As they grow closer to the castle, the poppies thin out. Eventually, a path clears out for him and the dog, the poppies lining either side. It leads right to the front door, or what Akaashi assumes to be the front. It makes sense. Closer now, the poppies thin out completely. Only one or two grow, waving and bobbing slightly in the breeze.

Akaashi stops. They’re not far from the door now. It’s tall and just as foreboding as the rest of the castle. He tilts his head back to take it all in above him. Then he looks at the greyhound again.

“You can wait out here if you want,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “I have some business I need taken care of. It shouldn’t take long.”

How optimistically dishonest of him, but he doesn’t want the dog involved if it doesn’t want to be. It’s quite clear that the dog would rather be anywhere else. It scratches its claws into the ground, trembling slightly. It did enough to make sure Akaashi found his way here. It if wants to wait outside, or even leave completely and not wait for him, Akaashi would be fine with it.

But the dog shakes its head and sneezes. It walks forward to scratch at the door then looks at Akaashi for him to go ahead and knock already. It’s not going anywhere.

Smiling at it, Akaashi joins it at the door. He gives a tentative knock and waits for an answer.

His skin itches. The tips of his feathers tickle his exposed flesh. They’re most likely looking disheveled right now, not the greatest impression to bring to the wizard he’ll be begging to fix the curse, but he can’t do anything about that. He scratches his cheek, careful not to yank a feather, and rocks between his feet. The dog moves to sit at his side. It raises a hind paw to scratch its ear.

After a few minutes of waiting, the door creaks open and a man that’s definitely not Oikawa appears. He keeps the door opened only enough so that he can stand, blocking the gap, looking at them closely, summing them up. In his hands he holds a military-issued rifle. Akaashi recognizes it from all the soldiers in the parade who were leaving for the war back home, but what would a soldier be doing out here? Soldiers aren’t out in the Wasteland. None could be spared from the war, he’d heard. Swallowing his nerves, Akaashi steps forward.

“We’re here to see Oikawa,” he says and maybe, if he tells himself enough times that his voice didn’t shake, that would make it true.

The man opens the door further. “Really?” he asks, not harshly, a genuine question. His eyebrows are raised as he looks them over. His grip on his gun is lax and unthreatening. Nevertheless, standing in the shadow of Oikawa’s castle is daunting enough.

Not able to find his voice right away, Akaashi nods.

“It’s rare he gets visitors,” he mumbles, but his eyes snap back from the greyhound to Akaashi’s face, “but I suppose he did that to you, huh?”

Akaashi blinks, the question catching him off guard.

The man interrupts any potential reply to correct himself. “Never mind, you can’t answer that, I suppose. I’m not sure Oikawa can help you. Come on in.”

They’re let into the castle, the dog sticking close to Akaashi’s side. The man stays behind to shut the door. Akaashi takes the lead, walking into a large room. Similarly to the Owl’s Castle, it has a house-like feel inside, not matching its castle exterior. It’s a wide living room with a fireplace on the opposite wall, crackling merrily. Two grand staircases frame either side of the room and lead to the same landing on the second floor. The rest of the floor extends beyond Akaashi’s view. Even the ceiling stretches upward forever and makes him dizzy.

The castle is definitely grander than Bokuto’s and it should seem brighter and warmer from the fire to the nice, expensive-looking furniture, only it doesn’t. Akaashi rubs his arms, unconsciously fluffing his feathers. It’s cold and none of the tapestries or rugs can protect them from the chill that seeps through the stone walls and floors.

The man comes back to them, rifle gone from his hands. “If you’ll follow me, Oikawa’s this way. He’s been working all night so please excuse any mess.”

He leads them down a tight hallway to their right. The castle is much more like a maze than Bokuto’s. Akaashi is really starting to miss that simplicity right about now. At least, if nothing else, he has the dog’s warmth pressed up against his thigh. That’s enough to give him the courage to follow the man. He glances over his shoulder at them as he leads the way down the twisting hall.

“My name’s Iwaizumi by the way,” he says. “I guess you could say I work with Oikawa.”

“Are you a soldier?” Akaashi asks without waiting to consider the words. He stares at Iwaizumi hard, daring him not to answer answer.

Instead, he barks out a laugh, apparently amused by Akaashi’s forward question. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“By saying yes or no,” Akaashi responds. A slight frown pulls at his lips. It’s not like it’s a tricky question.

“Well, then yes,” Iwaizumi says, shrugging.

“Then why are you here?”

Iwaizumi stops in front of a door. “You’re the one who wanted a straight answer. Yes, I’m a soldier, but it’s also complicated, so that’s why I’m here. Now—” he raises a finger to his lips “—he’s in here.”

Akaashi falls silent, his sudden burst of nerve fading rapidly. He won’t be able to face Oikawa like Iwaizumi, who he doesn’t even know. As Iwaizumi raises a fist to knock, Akaashi trains his eyes on the wooden door. He’s on the other side, he thinks, the wizard who’s done this to me. Now’s the moment he can finally get his revenge, or at least ask to be changed back. His fists clench at his side.

“Iwa-chan,” a voice sings from inside, muffled through the door, “I told you not to interrupt me. I’m very busy.”

It’s Oikawa. Even after their brief meeting, Akaashi would recognize that voice anywhere. It’s the one that haunts his thoughts, his nightmares. He bristles at the sound of it, feathers standing on edge. The dog does the same, baring its teeth in a silent snarl.

“That was more than twelve hours ago,” Iwaizumi growls in response.

There’s a moment of silence, as if Oikawa is checking the time and realizing Iwaizumi is right. “Well, like I said, I’m very busy. I can’t afford to take a break.”

Iwaizumi sighs and glances at Akaashi, almost like an apology of sorts. “You have guests.”

That does the trick. Almost immediately, the door springs open and Oikawa appears, just the same as the last time Akaashi had seen him. Despite the dark circles under his eyes and messy brown hair, he’s wearing a bright welcoming grin and looks over his two visitors. The smile doesn’t droop in the slightest when he sees them. If anything, it grows, recognition clear in his eyes.

“Ah, of course! Akaashi, I was expecting you, though not quiet so soon,” he says warmly. “And Lev! I wasn’t expecting you at all!”

The dog growls fiercely in retort, but Oikawa goes on as if he hadn’t heard it.

“I’d invite you in, but it’s a complete mess. Let’s go elsewhere. Iwa-chan?” His head swivels around to look at Iwaizumi.

“It’s your castle,” Iwaizumi mutters under his breath, but with a roll of his eyes, turns and leads the party back down the tight hallway to return to the large living room. Here, Oikawa relaxes into an armchair while Iwaizumi moves to stand against the wall behind him, a bored expression on his face.

Oikawa spreads his hands. “Please have a seat,” he says, “but not on the furniture, okay, Lev? Akaashi, make yourself at home.”

Akaashi remains standing and he sees the dog’s haunches raises in defiance. Oikawa is clearly making fun of him. Akaashi turns back to face the awaiting sorcerer.

“So he’s another one you’ve cursed then?” he asks with a frown.

Shrugging, Oikawa’s arms drop to the armrests. “You could say we’ve met before, but I must say, Lev, it was a complete accident. You ran off so fast.” He places a hand over his heart, mockingly fretful.

“Then change him back,” Akaashi says nearly overtop of Oikawa’s words. “Same with me. That’s why I’m here after all, so you can turn me back to normal.”

Behind Oikawa, Iwaizumi makes a pained face. It’s very slight, but Akaashi catches it nonetheless. He stares back at Oikawa expectantly.

“If you’re such a great sorcerer like everyone says, change us back,” he continues.

With a great sigh, Oikawa gets to his feet, suddenly much more serious and intimidating than a moment ago. “If I could, perhaps I would break your curse,” he says in a dark voice, completely different than his warm welcome. “But I don’t break curses. Once a spell is placed, I can’t undo it. It’s as simple as that. I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time coming here. I can’t help you.”

What about those stories then? How Oikawa is so great and how everyone had expected him to become the next Royal Sorcerer to the King. Not being able to fix his mistakes must be just as bad as having no magic at all. What’s the point?

Akaashi feels his feathers growing, and spreading but he pays no mind, he’s practically vibrating with anger. “Then what’s the point?” His voice echoes off the stone walls.

“There is no point,” Oikawa answers, a decisive frown on his face, in no way matching his earlier demeanor. “None, none at all. There’s never been a point.”

“Oikawa—” Iwaizumi starts, taking a step toward the sorcerer who ignores him.

The sorcerer’s eyes are dark as he advances on Akaashi. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go back out into the Wasteland—take the mutt with you—and stay out there until not a shred of humanity remains. That’s what everyone else does. Then wait until I find you and take every scrap of power you have to give me until there’s nothing left to take. I’ll get stronger and finally be able to win this war for us, so that it ends once and for all.”

Akaashi grits his teeth, locking any words he could say far away, lodging them in his throat, along with any sounds of agony that come from the painful transition his body is starting against his wishes.

“Or we can do it right now. Your choice.” His voice is back to its velvety smoothness, sickly sweet.

The monster practically explodes out of his human skin, perhaps unable to turn a deaf ear to the challenge or perhaps called forth by Oikawa’s voice. Akaashi’s long gone that he doesn’t have the chance to come up with an answer.

*****

It all plays like a record, or maybe multiple records at once. The other place is blurry and he feels like he’s walking in multiple directions and when he turns, everything spins. Everything plays out just as it always has, the same characters, the same endless room. There’s the woman with her blank face, this time it twists and contorts like storm clouds in between the twitches of static. There’s his father. There are the shadows of the boys, whispering to each other. Then there’s the young Bokuto.

“Why are you crying?” the kid asks him, pulling on his sleeve. He’s holding something in his hand, but there’s still nothing there.

“Okay, boys. Do your best.”

Akaashi head snaps up to his father, who barks with the same tone of expectancy that he has always had. Akaashi flinches at that.

Then, while Bokuto still hangs onto his sleeve, the woman comes and takes his face between her hands once more. “He’s a good boy,” she says. “A really good boy, Keiji—”

“Learn everything you can.”

“This one’s my favorite.”

“—but he’s special. He loves you.”

And they get closer and closer and their voices mingle until he can’t tell them apart. Then they’re just saying his name, asking for his attention, but his hands are clamped over his ears, eyes squeezed shut. He backs away, but they’re still facing him.

“Keiji.”

“Keiji.”

“Keiji.”

He realizes he’s stepped onto the shadow of the crying boy. He hadn’t heard him crying over the noise. It suddenly cuts off now. The shadow grows and engulfs him so he only sees black. The other voices are long gone now. In the silence, the boy’s voice starts to speak.

“I really miss her, you know? I know she’d want me to be happy. She’d probably want me to go play with the other boys, even though I’m no good at that, but I can’t. I’m still really sad.”

*****

“I swear, if you ruin the castle again—”

Oikawa, his face turned bored, flaps a hand at Iwaizumi then moves it to wave at the beast before them. Dark, thorny vines shoot out from the stones and wrap around it, halting it right in its path. It snaps its sharp fangs viciously at the sorcerer, who for the most part remains undaunted. One thread of vines loops to muzzle it. The dog has already scurried off somewhere else in the castle. Oikawa wasn’t paying attention. Whatever, if he gets lost, the castle will spit him back out eventually. He locks his attention on the beast he’s created, unable to help the hungry glint in his eyes.

“Bastard,” Iwaizumi mutters, crossing his arms and glaring at Oikawa. “Do whatever you want, but I’m not helping you clean up.”

Oikawa approaches the beast, eye twitching as he struggles to keep the beast controlled. It pulls hard at the vines. “That’s fine, Iwa-chan. This won’t take long.”

Opening his mouth for another sharp retort, Iwaizumi pauses. He catches sight of Oikawa trembling to keep the beast restrained in their living room. “You’ve been working yourself to death,” he sighs, starting toward the hall. “I’ll go find the dog. If you do need help, just call.”

A vine punctures through one of the wings and wraps itself around the bony frame, trying to keep it from flapping so much. Oikawa squints, both hands raised now. Twitching with effort, he gives Iwaizumi a reassuring smile and winks over his shoulder. “I’m perfectly fine here. Get that dumb mutt out of my castle.”

His false cheer does little to comfort Iwaizumi. He just glares and rolls his eyes in disdain before he starts off, whistling for Lev to come back out.

Oikawa turns back to the beast, still smiling. “Ah, it seems you’re very upset with me, huh? Understandable, but we will not be doing this song and dance today. Not inside. You’ll upset Iwa-chan.” He grunts as the beast lunges forward against the vines, thorns scratching along the flesh hidden beneath the black feathers. It comes within inches from Oikawa’s face. He uses the vines to pull it back. “Between you and me, he’s very difficult to live with when he’s grumpy.”

More vines sprout from the stones beneath his feet and finally succeed in pulling the beast down, flattening it against the floor. Dripping sweat, Oikawa crouches before it. “I did quite a number on you, didn’t I?” he murmurs, stroking a hand through the feathers. “But it could’ve been much worse, you know?” Standing once more, he dusts his hands off, but he can’t shake off the feeling of the feathers beneath his fingers. “You caught me on a very rough day, Akaashi.”

He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly from his nose. He raises a hand and gives a snap. The vines vanish, only leaving the broken stones behind as evidence that they were there. The beast disappears as well in a flurry of feathers that litter the ground. Akaashi is left, banged and bruised, gasping for air as if he’d been submerged for a long time. He groans as he pushes himself to his knees.

“Why?” he asks, sounding dazed as he tries to get his eyes to focus. “Why can’t you just change me back?”

Oikawa surveys him. There’s a cut on his cheek and another wound on his shoulder, it soaks through his shirt and jacket, running down his arm. The blood will stick and clump the feathers together. That’ll be a pain to clean, he snickers inwardly, but otherwise keeps his face void of the emotion.

“In a war, why would they want a sorcerer who could break curses? That’s impractical. You fight your enemy by hurting them, inconveniencing them. Curse breaking was useless, so they didn’t teach me,” Oikawa explains, his eyes are distant as they stare through Akaashi, not giving anything away. “You should be grateful I only gave you feathers. Would you rather glass bones? Skin turned inside out? Aged a hundred years? Did you want me to remove all your senses? Steal your heart?” He swallows down any more threats and turns away. “I’m an expert in curses. That’s what they wanted after all.” His voice turns bitter, but with an unmistakable tone of pride hidden there somewhere.

“See? I told you, he’s perfectly fine.”

Oikawa and Akaashi both turn their heads. Iwaizumi is back, the dog hanging back a ways, but following hesitantly. It perks up at the sight of Akaashi and trots over gleefully. Quickly, Akaashi holds up a hand to keep the dog at bay.

“Don’t,” he says. “Stay.” The dog halts in his tracks and sits. Akaashi glances back at Oikawa. “You said his name is Lev?”

The sorcerer spares a glance at the dog and shrugs. “That’s what _he_ said in any case. Not my best work.”

Akaashi scowls at the remark. He struggles to push himself to his feet. It takes nearly every ounce of his strength. Lev scurries closer, but at a glance from Akaashi, sits back down obediently, caught in the act.

“This is where you leave,” Oikawa says, looking to the door meaningfully. “You’ve already made a mess—”

“That was you,” Iwaizumi cuts in, but Oikawa carries on as if he hadn’t spoken in the first place.

“—and completely ruined my day. So you leave before I decide to do worse things to you.” His nose is stuck into the air haughtily.

Taking a deep breath, Akaashi braces himself. There’s one last thing he needs to know. “Why me?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Oikawa remarks. “That’s like asking why I cursed Lev. Because I felt like it.”

Iwaizumi rubs a hand over his face and groans at the straightforwardness.

Akaashi refuses to believe that answer. “But you were looking for Bokuto. I didn’t even know who he was.”

Head tilted to the side, Oikawa stares blankly at him. “No?”

Akaashi shakes his head, frowning.

“But his trace was all over you.”

“I met him earlier that day, but briefly.”

Oikawa taps a finger to his lips thoughtfully. “Hmm, it was a very strong trace.”

“What?”

Oikawa’s face brightens and he claps his hands together. “Well consider it my mistake then!”

“Huh,” the disgruntled sound comes from the back of his throat. He scowls at the sorcerer.

“Why is it whenever you open your moth you manage to piss someone off,” Iwaizumi groans, keeping a close eye on Akaashi as if the beast is about to make a second appearance.

Again, Oikawa is unconcerned. “Relax, Iwa-chan. Akaashi won’t be turning into _that_ for at least a few hours, courtesy of me.” With a hand placed on his chest, he looks as if he’s expecting some sort of praise.

“So you can do that, but you can’t change me back?”

“It’s the least I can do,” Oikawa says sweetly, but then turns serious. “However, I would keep yourself in check in the future. Too many incidents like that will chip away at your humanity. If you want any hope of breaking the curse, you should try to keep the beast restrained.”

“As if I didn’t know that already,” Akaashi mutters under his breath. “So why Bokuto then?”

Oikawa looks at him innocently. “What, I can’t be looking for an old friend? He's _very_ dear to me.”

Akaashi snorts and glares at the sorcerer. He should’ve known better than to expect an actual answer. He looks to Lev. “We’re leaving.” Turning on his heel, he decides to show himself out.

“Don’t be a stranger!” Oikawa calls after him.

That false cheer is grating on his nerves. He’ll be happy to put this place behind him. A shuddering breath passes through his lips. He feels numb. Before this entire experience started, before he’d ever left his house, he hadn’t expected sorcerers to be so disappointing.

“You couldn’t even fix the floor?” he hears Iwaizumi grumble behind him.

Akaashi opens the door slowly and Lev slips out before him. The dog sprints into the openness, finally free of Oikawa, in a way. His curse still remains. The sun has officially begun its climb into the sky, leaving the horizon behind, and the sight of the poppies isn’t as refreshing as Akaashi thought they would be. They offer the same fake sweetness that Oikawa does. The thought makes him shiver.

Iwaizumi grabs the door before Akaashi can properly close it. Confused, he looks at the other man, wondering what else he could possibly want.

“Are you able to get to wherever you need to be?” he asks. “If you have far to go, I can get Oikawa to help.”

Akaashi frowns at the proposal. Yes, they have far to go, but he’d rather walk all day and into the night to get there than have Oikawa do anything more to him with his magic. He’d rather do it all again in the rain than have Oikawa involved in any way. “No, we’re fine,” he replies curtly.

Nodding, Iwaizumi looks at him. He doesn’t close the door or say his farewells. All Akaashi wants to do is to get away, let the result sink in, and crumble under the disappointment. He needs that time. He needs this long walk. Everything with Oikawa—it just hasn’t hit him yet. He knows it will. He’s dreading it, but he needs to be alone.

“You know, curses can be broken,” Iwaizumi says at last, slowly, as if choosing his words carefully before they slip past his lips. He laughs bitterly. “I can’t claim to know much about magic, but I know curses are very personal. Magic isn’t the only option when it comes to breaking them.” Running out of words, he shrugs. “Don’t give up just yet.”

“Not planning on it,” Akaashi says, annoyed. The numbness is gradually disappearing. He lifts a hand to press against his shoulder, sees blood when he pulls away, grimaces at it.

Iwaizumi sees it, too. “I could get you something for that—”

“Don’t bother. I’ll survive. I would thank you for your hospitality, but—” He offers a fake plastered on smile to be polite and turns away. After a moment, he hears the door close.

Lev waits for him a ways off, standing amidst the poppies where the path ends. Gripping his shoulder, which is really starting to ache now, Akaashi hurries to catch up with him.

“Guess we’ve been introduced at last,” he mutters to the dog as they walk side-by-side up the hill.

He whuffs an agreement.

“Sorry you had to see all that. I did tell you to wait outside,” he says, to which Lev doesn’t make much of a reply. “But it didn’t work out for either of us, did it? So where to now?”

They reach the top only the view is different. Instead of seeing the large expanse of fields before them, the two are faced with a wall of trees. The leaves are just beginning to turn for autumn. This definitely isn’t the way they came, unless all these trees just sprouted up in the last hour or so. The crinkle of leaves that have already fell alert him to someone approaching. He looks down. Lev gives an excited bark and bounds forward.

And he shouldn’t be surprised.

Not really.

It’s Kuroo. He sits down in front of him, far enough so that he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look up at Akaashi. Wearing a smug expression on his face, he lifts a paw to pick out a nettle with his teeth. Lev sniffs the ground, slowly drawing closer to the cat. Kuroo hisses when he gets too close. Eventually Lev understand to keep a safe enough distance away after Kuroo lifts a paw threateningly, claws extended.

Akaashi wants to be annoyed. “What, Bokuto sent you?” But his voice is tired. In the end, he’s really just relieved.

Kuroo looks back up at him. “And here I am.”

“And he didn’t think to come himself?” Mostly he’s frustrated because this means prolonging an apology he knows he needs to make.

“He was busy,” Kuroo responds, indifferent. “Said it was important he finished as soon as possible.”

Akaashi huffs out a sigh and starts into the trees. “Whatever.”

Lev follows immediately and after a moment, Kuroo slinks ahead into the lead.

“By the way,” he starts, realizing that the dog probably needs an explanation, “this is Lev. Oikawa cursed him. Lev, this is Kuroo.”

The dog practically shoves his nose into Kuroo’s face. Fur standing on end, Kuroo hisses again. Lev’s tail wags lazily in response.

“I hope you don’t think he’ll be staying in the castle,” he says crossly up to Akaashi.

“Guess we’ll just have to talk to Bokuto then.”

He can see Kuroo wilting at the suggestion. They both know Bokuto won’t have a problem with keeping the dog.

“Just my luck,” the cat mutters under his breath.

They walk onwards through the forest. Akaashi stays silent while Kuroo grumpily explains the idea of personal space to Lev. The first few times, the dog pretends not to understand. At some point, he gets bored and falls back to walk next to Akaashi.

“What’s with all the trees?” Akaashi asks eventually, too curious to bother trying with any kind of silent treatment. The cat had come to help them after all. He knows Kuroo would much rather be curled up in the castle, taking a nap by the fire. He ought to be thankful. He tries to make himself feel less annoyed and ends up blaming it all on the terrible ache in his shoulder and the long night he’d spent walking through the storm. He’ll probably get sick if his luck holds up.

“A shortcut back,” Kuroo says, glancing over his shoulder briefly. “Don’t forget, I’m a sorcerer, too. Much more powerful than Oikawa.”

Akaashi hums some sort of agreement. It doesn’t really matter what kind of sorcerer Kuroo is. He already said he wouldn’t help him out unless he somehow helped Bokuto first. After talking with Oikawa, he’s doubtful Kuroo can really break his curse anyway. Maybe he’ll be a bit more impressed if this shortcut actually works.

Slowing his pace, Kuroo falls back to walk beside him. With the cat no longer out in front, Lev runs up ahead, stretching his legs, blowing off some steam after such a stressful morning.

“So it didn’t go how you expected with Oikawa.”

Akaashi watches his feet carefully and nods silently. He’s not about to retell everything that had happened to Kuroo. It was a lost cause. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t think he’ll tell anyone what happened. It’s certainly a lot to process. But overall, it just puts him back at square one, wondering where to go to from here.

“Let me tell you a bit about magic, Akaashi.”

Confused, he looks up from his shoes to meet Kuroo’s yellow gaze.

“You can’t just do whatever you want with it. There are many different areas to study, too many to try to learn them all.” He laughs. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Why do you think Kenma and Hinata work so hard? We made sure they understood everything that goes into being a sorcerer before they started their apprenticeship. You don’t just learn the basics and get to wave your hands to do whatever you want.”

“Yes, Oikawa said something along those lines. Something about him only learning curses, but not being able to break them.”

Kuroo nods, looking ahead as they continue walking. “It’s very difficult to learn both, but that doesn’t mean it’s still not Oikawa’s fault.” He looks closely at Akaashi, as if making sure he comprehends this.

Akaashi grimaces. “Yeah, I know.”

“I just wanted you to be aware. Magic is tricky and hardly ever straightforward.”

“Yes, I understand that.”

“And it’s not like I’m trying to give you some kind of lecture. I know you needed to go find Oikawa. I get it, but sometimes, with magic, it’s best to work out the problem yourself. More often than not, you happen upon the answer. That’s why we let Kenma and Hinata work out a lot of spells on their own.” Kuroo holds his head proudly while talking about the boys. “You just have to use your head to figure it out.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi tries to hide his small smile behind the back of his hand. “That, or you and Bokuto are just lazy teachers.”

He sees the cat’s whiskers twitch in amusement. “You’re right, Bokuto has been especially lazy lately. Perhaps you can straighten him out.”

“I was actually thinking you were the lazy one, Kuroo.”

“Hmm,” Kuroo hums in consideration. “Guess we’ll just have to ask the boys their opinion when we get back.”

And Akaashi can’t lie to himself. The idea of returning to the Owl’s Castle actually cheers him up a tiny bit. There’s a warmth spreading in his chest and it almost feels like going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support as always. It's so great to be back on a regular update schedule. Hope you all enjoyed the new chapter.
> 
> My tumblr: [silentmarco](silentmarco.tumblr.com)


	7. A Warning at Midnight

Kuroo stops Akaashi before he can enter the castle. “Whatever happened between you two before you left, be gentle with Bokuto.”

Akaashi’s brows narrow and he casts Kuroo a confused glance. “I thought you said he’d been busy working.”

“Well, yes, but he’s kept himself shut in his room ever since,” Kuroo admits.

“Alright,” Akaashi huffs. An apology is imminent and he’s never been good at them. He already knows how eccentric Bokuto can be, how up and down his moods tend to go. He’s dreading coming face-to-face. “I’ll do my best.”

This seems good enough to Kuroo. He nods and backs away, allowing Akaashi to enter.

Nothing appears out of the ordinary. His eyes first find Hinata and Kenma at the table and as soon as the door swings open they immediately come running. Apparently they were expecting him. They grab hold of him, one to each hip, clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

“You left without saying goodbye!” Hinata pouts, tugging at Akaashi’s arm.

He winces. It’s his bad arm, the one he had hurt at Oikawa’s. He can feel warm wetness trickle down his sleeve as it starts to bleed again from the treatment, but he puts on his usual face, hiding any pain. He doesn’t want to worry the boys and he doesn’t want them to think he’s regretted coming back.

He hasn’t. Not yet anyway.

Even more than the pain in his arm, he feels his face grow hot with embarrassment and shame. The boys stare up at him with their childlike accusing glares.

“You shouldn’t have left,” Kenma says. He doesn’t look up at Akaashi, but stares at the front of his shirt. Akaashi’s afraid he might have blood there, too. He glances down. He doesn’t. It’s just Kenma not making eye contact. “It made Bokuto upset.”

“Hey, I was upset, too!” Hinata says in his loud voice to Kenma, who shrugs.

“But when Bokuto’s sad, the house gets quiet.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Kuroo calls from the fireplace.

Akaashi wonders if the cat had seen the guilt starting to grow on his face, but when he looks, the cat is busy washing himself.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” he says, turning back to the two in front of him. Gently he releases their clinging hands and moves them back to a more comfortable distance. “But if it can make up for anything, I brought a friend back with me.”

As if on cue, or perhaps he’d heard him, Lev bursts through the door. He barks loudly, echoing off the walls, and jumps at the boys.

“On the night we met, this is the dog I was telling you about. His name is Lev,” Akaashi explains while the boys experience a thorough washing from the large dog. He’s dirty, mud dried on the ends of his gray hair and his paws are filthy. Inwardly, Akaashi cringes at having his prance all along the floors he’d only just cleaned. He sighs. Oh well, they could do with another sweep.

“Can we take him back?” Kenma asks, holding his arms up to protect his face. “To wherever he came from?”

But Hinata’s laughing and already hugging the dog around his neck. There’s dirty smeared on his cheek where he presses it against the dog’s. “I wanna keep him. Can we?” His voice is much louder than Kenma’s complaining. “Kuroo, can we?”

“Not up to me, but I’m fine with it as long as he stays far away from me.”

“And me,” Kenma adds, trying to crawl out from under the dog pile Lev has them trapped under.

There’s a creak on the stairs that catches Akaashi’s attention. He glances away from the activity in front of him.

“Bokuto!” Hinata cheers, catching sight of the Owl as well. “Akaashi’s back! And he brought a dog. Can we keep him? We can, can’t we? Kuroo said it’s okay.”

Bokuto freezes on the steps. For a split second, his eyes are wide as they see Akaashi. There’s an expression there Akaashi can’t quite decipher, but then it’s gone fast enough to make him question if it was ever really there to begin with. The look is replaced with a big grin as he looks at the boys wrestling with the dog, hands planted on his hips.

“Of course! The more the merrier.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “Though I’m not sure if there’s much room…”

“He’ll behave, right, Lev?” Hinata asks the dog and Lev barks loudly in response.

Akaashi’s not quite sure if that’s disproving Hinata’s point or not.

“Oh, Bokuto,” Kenma starts, now free from the tussle Hinata and Lev have begun. His hands are clasped behind his back. “There’s another letter. It’s in the drawer.”

Akaashi sees Kuroo pause in his cleaning, but only for a second before he continues. He tilts his head to the side, curious.

“Akaashi.” Bokuto’s voice is quiet, yet Akaashi hears it clearly above the commotion of the dog and Hinata, even Kenma as he’s suddenly pulled back into the scuffle. He glances up and Bokuto gestures up the stairs with his head, his face contemplative, almost serious, which is odd. “Come with me?”

It’s a question, one Akaashi could easily deny. If he’s honest with himself, he’s afraid of being alone with Bokuto again. That strange feeling of missing him, or something very similar, is not a feeling he is used to. He recalls it easily from when he was at Oikawa’s. He could pass it off as missing the castle, which is much more homey than the other. But, no, it’s not that.

It’s that feeling of Bokuto holding his face, of him asking something of him, even if it was something he could not possibly do. That is the feeling that has called Akaashi back and he feels like he’s facing it right now, staring into the sun.

He’s afraid of them being alone. He’s afraid of getting angry again. It’s been happening much too often in the last twenty-four hours. He would give anything for it to never happen again.

Taking a deep breath, he nods at Bokuto who’s eyes spark before he begins climbing the stairs two at a time. Akaashi moves around the boys and Lev to follow.

No, he said he would be better at this. He’ll keep his emotions in check. Even if it means forcing himself to feel nothing. He doesn’t want to risk hurting anyone. He remembers coming to and seeing the beast’s hands at Bokuto’s throat. A shiver runs down his spine.

He reaches the top of the stairs and sees Bokuto waiting for him at the end of the hallway, just in front of his door. As Akaashi walks toward him, he searches for the door to the mirror room with a dirty feeling settling in his stomach. It’s not here and so he curses it silently before turning his eyes onto Bokuto. He waits for him, wringing his hands.

“Hey,” he says, not meeting his eyes right away.

Unsure of what else to say in response, Akaashi replies, “Hey.”

Bokuto pauses and then looks up. It’s supposed to be a quick glance, Akaashi can tell by the way his eyes flutter about, but then he double takes when he spots Akaashi’s arm.

“Oh hey, you’re bleeding.” His voice sounds more normal and he takes a quick step closer so that they’re nearly standing toe-to-toe. He raises his hands, but pauses, doubtful. “Do you mind?”

Akaashi shakes his head, though he’s not sure what he’s saying he doesn’t mind to.

With that, Bokuto’s fingers move, lighting skimming over the feathers on his neck and then sliding beneath his jacket. Gently, Bokuto pulls it down over his arms. He hisses in sympathy when it sticks and he has to pull it harder, yanking lose feathers. Akaashi’ flinches, but doesn’t say anything. No matter what, he must be calm. He’s too scared what feeling too much of anything could do. Finally, Bokuto lets the coat drop down around Akaashi’s feet.

His hands run along Akaashi’s shoulders. He shivers at the touch, until one hand covers his wound and suddenly the worst pain he’s ever felt blossoms. His eyes go wide, but his lips stayed frozen together. All that sounds is a slight grunt from deep within his throat and he’s not even sure if Bokuto hears. Bokuto’s other hands braces on his chest and another uncomfortable feeling arises. It’s tugging on his heart, it seems. Put together with the pain and Akaashi would much rather pass out onto the floor. But Bokuto’s hands are firm and keep him in place, keep him standing.

His face comes closer, eyes intense. The gold practically shimmers within them. Through everything he’s feeling, it’s those eyes that hold him, and Akaashi finds he can’t look away. Those eyes make him want to stay on his feet, to stand through whatever is tearing through him, just to see what will happen next.

Relief. Sweet relief is what comes next. Bokuto’s hand turns cold on his inflamed shoulder, though his heart doesn’t cease its tugging. It’s like it has risen into his throat, still pounding.

Akaashi is nearly blinded by all of this, so it’s a shock when suddenly Bokuto is resting his forehead against his own. His hands grip his biceps, rubbing up and down as if to warm him. The coldness on Akaashi’s shoulder disappears slowly, while the tugging on his heart stops all at once.

“There, is that better?” Bokuto asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Finding no words, still distracted by his pounding heart, Akaashi nods and their hair brushes together.

“Sorry, I can’t do anything about your shirt.” He raises a hand and slides a thumb across the shallow cut on Akaashi’s cheek and his hand stays a second longer than probably necessary. Akaashi doesn’t have to see it to know it’s healed as well. “I’m terrible with clothes and my magic can’t take out stains.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Akaashi says, his voice cracking.

Why does Bokuto have to be so handsy? he wonders for the first time. Why does he have no conception of personal space? He feels his heart in his throat again, raised on its own accord. He stares back at Bokuto with wide eyes. It’s like Bokuto is staring into him, looking for something. He moves after a second, just a shift to place a kiss on Akaashi’s forehead. Again? he thinks, confused. This time, it’s gentler, softer, barely there. When Bokuto pulls away, he steps back completely and Akaashi can breathe again. Even still, the openness feels strangely empty and cold.

He’s just tired, he tells himself. Exhausted. Dead on his feet, really. It’s suddenly hit him all at once. He has no reason to take anything he’s thinking literally right now. He had just undergone a very strenuous experience seeking Oikawa out and facing the sorcerer head-on. Perhaps he’s feeling lethargic, like a kid again, wishing someone would take care of him. He sighs, almost longingly, but it comes out of a straight face. His body hasn’t betrayed his emotions yet. He needs to crash before it becomes a problem again. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he transformed again, especially right now. He can feel his little nook of a bedroom calling out to him at the bottom of the stairs.

Bokuto seems to catch that he’s about to excuse himself. His eyes go wide and he grabs hold of one of Akaashi’s hands with both of his.

“Stay here real quick!” he says, his voice back to normal, loud and hard on Akaashi’s ears.

He winces, but nods nonetheless. Bokuto squeezes his hands once before zipping around and sliding into his room. Not that there’s much of a chance, but Akaashi’s too tired to try and see inside this time.

The Owl appears again, looking pleased with himself. “Here!” he chirps. He holds a fist out and down falls some kind of dark rock. It bounces and dangles on the end of a string. In the little light from the hallway, it shines, reflecting green. Bokuto jerks out his fist at Akaashi, meaning for him to take it. “This is for you.”

Akaashi takes the rock with both hands. It’s smooth, as if it had been sitting at the bottom of a river for a long time, allowing the rushing water to wear away any rough edges. The cord wraps around it tightly, holding it in place. It’s meant to go around his neck, he presumes. The he remembers. He glances up, recalling Bokuto wearing something similar. He’s right. It’s rests against his chest, appearing dark at first, but throwing off golden shimmers when it moves with him. The two are very similar.

He pets the rock lightly with the tips of his fingers, now staring at Bokuto instead of it. “What’s this for?” he asks.

“I’ve been working on it since you left,” Bokuto replies with a big smile.

Akaashi remembers Kuroo mentioning that Bokuto hadn’t left his room since Akaashi had left.

“It’s to help—” Bokuto starts. He gestures at Akaashi’s feathers awkwardly, trying to find the right words. “It’s so that—it’s to—like if I’m not there—” He shakes himself, squaring up his shoulders. “If I’m not around, this should help prevent that from happening so much.”

His eyes fall back to the rock, wide with disbelief. “Why?” he mumbles, then lifts his head to stare at Bokuto, who gazes back, slightly puzzled. “Why would you do something like this?”

“Huh?” The word is loud and Bokuto is genuinely confused, cocking his head to the side.

“Why go out of your way?” Akaashi’s voice is soft and his hands tighten around the gift. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Realization slowly dawns on Bokuto’s face and changes into a knowing smile, but it’s small and quiet. Something rare, Akaashi would guess. He wants to treasure it, but he waits anxiously for Bokuto’s answer instead.

“Because we’re family now and that means we protect each other.”

He says it as if it’s the simplest thing he’s ever had to explain. He says it as if he’s explaining a new bit of magic to Hinata and Kenma.

Akaashi blinks. “Family?” It slides out through numb lips.

Bokuto plants his hands on his hips, not sure what Akaashi’s not understanding. “Well, yeah. That’s how things work around here. Remember when I asked you to protect my family?”

Akaashi nods dumbly.

“You said you would and they’ve been safe ever since.”

“But that’s not—”

“And now you’re part of it, too. That means we’ve got your back, no matter what.” Bokuto points at him, like he’s daring him to say otherwise.

No matter what.

Akaashi stares back, jaw loose, lips parted, brows drawn. No matter what? No matter the feathers? No matter his cold personality Konoha had always teased him for? No matter his straightforwardness? His faults? The way he walked out on them?

No matter all those things?

Bokuto seems to wilt under Akaashi’s silence, finger drooping. “I mean, unless you don’t want to be. We can’t _make_ you—”

“I would like that.”

“What?” Bokuto pipes, leaning closer to hear better.

Akaashi meets his gaze, a small smile on his lips. “I would like that a lot, Bokuto.” He bows his thanks, pulling the rock to his chest. It’s warm, comfortably so, and he thinks of the many hours Bokuto had worked on it. His grip tightens. “Please take care of me. I promise to do the same in return.”

His concerned expression quickly melts away as he straights, a big lopsided grin replacing it. “Of course, Akaashi!” And he wraps him up in another hug. “We’re really glad you came home.”

He allows himself to be enveloped in Bokuto’s arms, face squished against his shoulder. He doesn’t mind. It’s warm and he’s sleepy. He breathes in a deep breath. Smells nice. He can’t put a finger on it.

“I should really get some sleep, Bokuto,” he says eventually into the Owl’s shoulder. Already he can feel the lull of sleep with Bokuto surrounding him. He could probably fall asleep right now if he wanted to—

All of a sudden, he’s pushed back, held at arms’ length. His head almost snaps backward at the movement. He struggles to stay upright. Bokuto’s surprised, apologetic face meets him.

“That’s right! You’ve had such a long day, Akaashi. You need your rest!” he explodes.

Akaashi doesn’t remember turning around, but he finds himself being pushed down the hallway, his feet barely lifting off the floor. Bokuto’s hands are strong and steady on his back. Eyes falling closed, Akaashi lifts a hand to cover a yawn halfheartedly. The night of no sleep is really catching up to him.

“—It might be so much magic, too, you know?” Bokuto is saying over his shoulder.

Akaashi realizes that Bokuto has been talking the entire time, and he wasn’t paying attention. How impolite, especially after Bokuto welcomed into his family. Akaashi covers another yawn. Bokuto doesn’t seem to mind that he’s barely listening at least.

“That can leave a lot of physical factors people don’t usually take into account. So it’s very important that you get your rest. Don’t worry about your cleaning and whatnot. Take tomorrow to rest. I’ll make sure Hinata and Kenma don’t bother you.”

And Kuroo and Lev, Akaashi wants to add, but he’s swallowing another yawn and it’s all he can do to keep his lips sealed around it.

At the top of the stairs, Bokuto’s hands on his back vanish. Akaashi nearly stumbles backward.

“Oh! Your jacket,” he remembers. “I’ll go get it for you.”

That’s right. It’s probably still on the floor. Akaashi allows Bokuto to run back for it. Gripping the railing, he starts down the steps. The last thing he needs is for Bokuto to come running back and demand to carry him down. He’d never hear the end of it from Kuroo. Besides, he’s not that tired.

It doesn’t take long for Bokuto to catch up. He hovers over Akaashi as they descend, sidestepping along beside him. He looks worried, despite the countless times Akaashi mutters that he’s perfectly capable of walking down the stairs.

“I’m fine, Bokuto,” he says. “Really.”

Bokuto reaches a finger out to trace lightly along a cheek. “But you look so pale!”

Akaashi can feel his feathers trembling under the touch. “You don’t have to mother me.”

“But what if you fall?”

“I won’t.” And to prove the point, he steps down onto the level ground, staring back at Bokuto. Maybe, if he weren’t so tired, he’d call it a challenge, but he can’t be sure what’s coming across his face presently. He needs to be sleeping.

“Oh,” Bokuto says and steps down next to him.

Feeling his ears go red, Akaashi can feel the eyes of the room now on him. Did it suddenly go quiet?

But then Lev barks and Hinata laughs and Akaashi assumes it must’ve been his imagination. He quietly excuses himself and escapes to his nook, drawing the curtain so he can finally find peace. It’s still loud, but he’s certainly tired enough by now that he’ll be able to sleep through anything.

“Guys, guys, quiet down!”

Akaashi hears Bokuto’s loud whisper as he settles himself under his blankets.

“Akaashi needs to sleep so make sure you keep quiet, okay?”

“Lev, you should take a nap, too,” Akaashi hears Kuroo tease.

And Lev whines, but he hears a resounding thump in response. Good, the dog needs his rest as well. He’s been through the same ordeal that Akaashi has. Tomorrow Akaashi will be sure to try and brush through the dog’s mess of long hair, but not now. Lev will just have to wait. He’s too tired.

“And you two, get back to your work,” Kuroo directs.

Both Hinata and Kenma agree, but then Hinata says, “You only want us quiet so you can take a nap, too. I bet it has nothing to do with Akaashi.”

Akaashi hears laughter warming the room.

“Oh no, I care for Akaashi deeply.” Kuroo’s voice comes from the direction of the fireplace. “But I deserve some shuteye, too. I _did_ go all the way to fetch him, right?”

“Hardly,” comes Kenma’s quiet murmur. “You used a shortcut spell.”

Footsteps start up the stairs. “Do you what you like, but remember to keep it down.” Bokuto sounds from above Akaashi’s head and he stares up at the spot. He pulls the necklace over his head and holds the rock between his hands. There’s two slight taps of Bokuto’s toe on the step before he continues back up to his room.

*****

It’s a heavy sleep, difficult to pull out of. It’s dreamless, thick, and dark, on the verge of suffocating, like drowning in warm water. But it’s a good sleep. He needs this. His nook is cozy next to the fire, he can feel the heat and his bedding has already soaked in his body heat and radiates it back. He nuzzles back into his pillow. He wants to stay here forever. Sleeping forever doesn’t seem too bad.

Murmuring voices fully pull Akaashi to wakefulness. He opens sleep-crusted eyes to find darkness has already fallen. Only the orange firelight slips in past the slight gap in the curtain. It’s warm and sleepiness continues to tug at him, but he hears the voices again.

Oddly enough, he’s not all that tired. Not like he normally is when he first wakes in the morning. It must be sometime in the middle of the night. He’s not sure. But whatever the hour, he’s been asleep for quite a while.

Besides, he’s much too curious about the voices to think about going back to sleep just yet.

Sitting up, he inches closer to the gap between the curtain and the wall. It’s not big enough to peek through, but he doesn’t need to. He can easily tell who’s out there talking, recognizing their voices.

“—really think it’s wise to go out?”

That’s Kuroo. He sounds worried. At least Akaashi thinks he does.

“Oh Kuroo, you’re much too worrisome.”

That’s Bokuto.

Akaashi wonders what’s going on. He leans in closer.

“I think I have every right to be worried,” Kuroo says, tone unreadable with seeing his face, but even still Akaashi would have a tough time figuring him out. “You know how things are.”

“Oho, really?”

“Not in the mood, Bo.”

Whatever is going on, Bokuto must be taking it extremely lightly for Kuroo not to play along. Maybe even _he_ gets frustrated with the Owl’s carefree attitude, how he seems to never, _never_ take things seriously.

He seemed to take you seriously, a voice whispers in his head, the rock against his chest warmer than even the fire’s heat. Akaashi shakes the thought away, concentrating on the conversation in front of him. It must be quite serious to be having it in the middle of the night like this. The probability of being overheard is quite low. Hinata and Kenma are sound asleep. Normally, he would be, too, yet here he is. Eavesdropping, shamelessly.

“It’ll only be a few hours,” Bokuto whines, but it’s not to his normal extent. It appears Kuroo’s attitude has sobered him up some. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”

Akaashi catches the barest hint of a hiss from Kuroo. He’s tempted to pull the curtain aside. Instead, he clenches his hands together on his thighs. Best to stay silent. _Listen_.

“You’re too dense for your own good.”

The door opens with a faint click and Akaashi can here the wind blowing outside. The fire flickers as it rushes in through the opened door. Akaashi can feel the drop in temperature.

“Just trust me, Tetsu.”

Then the sound of the wind is cut off abruptly as the door closes. The room is wrapped in silence. He can only hear the fire’s crackle, maybe the sound of Kuroo’s sigh, but he’s not certain. The remnants of the conversation make the air in the room heavy, even Akaashi feels it pressing on his shoulders, constricting his chest in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

He waits a few more seconds, unsure if he should stay hidden or come out. He doesn’t think he could go back to sleep and the thought of just sitting here, hidden, doesn’t sound too appealing.

His stomach grumbles audibly and he wonders if Kuroo hears.

That’s the deciding factor though. He’s hungry. He can’t remember the last time he ate. He can’t even remember the last time he felt hungry. His nerves have certainly affecting his usual appetite. That can’t be good. So, awkward or not, he’s not just going to sit with an empty stomach. If Kuroo calls him out on eavesdropping, so be it.

Everything appears normal when he steps out into the room. It’s dark outside, pitch black. Other than the fire roaring invitingly at such a late hour, nothing is amiss.

Akaashi spots Lev spread out in front of the fire. He’s in an odd position on his back, twisted in a way that can’t possibly be comfortable. He snores on, apparently not having heard the conversation just minutes ago. Must be a deep sleeper, Akaashi thinks.

Kuroo is sitting at his normal place, biting an itch at the base of his tail. Akaashi would think that to be normal as well if not for the intense stare of his wide yellow eyes. They glint in the firelight and stare at nothing. However, it’s only brief. He sees Akaashi almost immediately. He sits straight up, his usual coyness on his face.

“Ah, so you _are_ up,” he says shrewdly.

Akaashi would ask how he knew, but he reminds himself, Kuroo is a sorcerer, too. Just like how Bokuto new his name when they first met or how they both seem to know just about everything in this house. So really, Akaashi’s not surprised.

He nods. “I am.”

Peering at him closely, Kuroo squints. “Should I even ask how much you overheard?”

He could fake a yawn and insist he’s only just woken up. His stomach woke him. It’s not that far from the truth.

“You can if you want,” he replies with a shrug. Forgoing his trip for food, he takes a seat in front of Kuroo, feeling as though the cat is far from done with him.

“Hmph, go figure,” Kuroo mutters to himself darkly.

A quick glance to the door, then back to Kuroo. “Where did he go?”

The cat shrugs, just as indifferent as Akaashi. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Akaashi lifts a brow. He doesn’t believe a word out of that cat’s mouth. “Why do I feel that you know more than you’re letting on?”

“Because I always do,” Kuroo replies with forced smoothness, his tail lashing out behind him.

Feeling his eye twitch in annoyance, Akaashi leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His eyes slide to stare into the fire. How troublesome. If Kuroo really does know where Bokuto went, and Akaashi’s pretty sure he does, he won’t be getting it out of him, not tonight at least.

Kuroo chuckles at his reaction. “Well aren’t you troublesome,” he says.

Akaashi looks back at him. “I just don’t understand you wizards,” is all he hums in reply.

“I don’t know why Bokuto likes you so much. Your bluntness verges on irritating.” Kuroo creeps along the edge of the fireplace until he sits in front of Akaashi, practically nose-to-nose.

Akaashi has to tilt his head a bit to meet his gaze from his hunched position. He waits.

Kuroo’s smugness evaporates as he glances over Akaashi’s shoulder a second, thinking, before meeting his eyes again. A different expression is there now. “I didn’t mean that. Not really.” That’s about as much of an apology as he’s going to get. “I feel you and I have a sort of understanding, Akaashi.”

His eyebrows raise in question. “Oh really? How so?”

“That’s not important,” he says, of course, avoiding the question. “But let me tell you something. Things weren’t always this way.”

Intrigued, Akaashi sits up a bit straighter.

“We didn’t always conceal ourselves in small towns, hiding our names, our appearances.” Whatever he’s looking at now, it’s far away. His whiskers twitch at the memories that are passing through his mind.

“I remember Kenma saying something about Dock Hollow being different than other towns,” Akaashi recalls.

“There are plenty of wizards hiding there and the townsfolk don’t seem to mind either. It’s a free town, too, not own by either of its neighboring kingdoms. I’m surprised that it hasn’t been found out yet.”

Head tilting to the side, Akaashi asks, “What do you mean?”

With a disgusted look, Kuroo jumps down from the hearth and trots over to the table. He jumps up to the chair, to the table, to the counter space with ease. Akaashi gets up to follow. The cat reaches down with a paw and flicks the nearest drawer open. As he nears, Akaashi spies a bunch of opened envelopes bunched up inside. One is unopened and placed separately off to one side. The others are torn open hastily, wrinkled, and contain some sort of red seal accompanied by a blue ribbon. At Kuroo’s go ahead, he picks one up, unfolds it, and scans the elegant script.

“An invitation from the King?” he asks, brows drawing together. “All addressed to Bokuto? Why so many?”

“Things weren’t always this way, but you know as well as I that the King needs magic to win this war. Neither side wishes to draw it out like what happened a decade ago. But in being short, this war will be the most brutal yet, if it goes as planned.”

Akaashi stares at Kuroo, mouth slightly agape, letter caught between his fingers. Here he had thought he’d escape the war hidden in the Wasteland. He thought he would be able to solve his own problem without worrying about that one. Apparently he’d been very wrong. It was a lot closer than he thought. Here was evidence, right in his hands. A formal request for Bokuto to see the King. There is no question that it is in regards to the war.

“ _That’s_ why I’m like this.” His tail gestures to his lithe cat-like body, eyes narrowed into thin yellow slits. “I figured a new war would come up eventually. One always does.”

“Oh,” Akaashi manages so quietly he can barely here it. He feels the paper crinkling in his fingers. They tighten to hide any shakiness.

“Magic is not supposed to be used in this way. If it is, there will be terrible consequences to pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of days late! So sorry! I've found that when I have an astronomy exam I can't seem to update on time. But here it is nonetheless. Sorry it's a bit on the shorter side, too, but hope you enjoy! I'm sure the next one will be longer (I hope haha!). Thank you to all those leaving kudos and comments :) they are always greatly appreciate!
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving for all those who celebrate!
> 
> My tumblr: [silentmarco](silentmarco.tumblr.com)


	8. What if Means to be a Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had like 90% of this chapter done for so long, but then a lot of things happened that kept me from finishing. Also I'm posting this now right before finals, so a lot's going on! But be sure to check the end for notes. I have some stuff to discuss about this story, nanowrimo, and fics in general :) Enjoy!

His next sleep is not as restful. He tosses and turns and his blankets get tangled between his legs. The pillow grows damp with sweat and his shirt sticks to his back. Too many times Akaashi wakes gasping, but not awake enough to consider getting up. He only turns back over and squeezes his eyes shut.

The disturbance is probably caused by nightmares, though he can’t recall any clearly. Any slight noise makes him flinch, even just Hinata and Kenma coming down a few hours later. They’re loud at first, but Kuroo quickly shushes them. Akaashi swears even the scratch of their writing at the table wakes him. He just continues to convince himself that he needs more sleep. After all, Bokuto had said he needed his rest. He thinks of that as he presses his pillow over his head.

At some point, trying to maintain sleep becomes too much. The grogginess just won’t go away. The covers have grown too hot anyway. Akaashi throws them off and steps out into the cooler living room. Even though the fire is crackling low enough to heat the castle, it’s not nearly as stifling and stale as his nook had become. He breathes in a fresh breath of air, allowing it to fill up his lungs. Slowly, its calls him awake.

Kuroo intercepts him before he’s able to make a move farther from the fire. “Ah, great, you’re up,” he says warmly. “Perfect timing.”

Anything that pleases Kuroo will probably mean Akaashi doing some sort of favor for him. He sighs deeply, but the second deep breath allows his eyes to feel less heavy. “What for?” he asks.

“Kenma and Hinata were just heading to market. Would you go with them?”

Akaashi glances up to see the two boys waiting by the door, looking back expectantly.

“I thought you were supposed to take us,” Kenma says, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing his cheeks out in irritation.

Kuroo rolls his eyes but then turns a sly gaze to Akaashi. “If I’m right, Akaashi promised to take you before his sudden departure. Don’t you think it’d be best if he went with you?”

That’s right. Akaashi remembers now. “In that case, I feel obliged to,” he replies, “but I feel it’d be much more exciting if Kuroo went with you.”

Flicking his tail angrily, Kuroo bares his teeth at the idea. “Oh, really?”

“Relax,” Akaashi says, waving him down. He doesn’t want to rile Kuroo up too much. “I was only joking.”

“Can Lev come, too?” Hinata asks.

Immediately at the sound of his name, Lev appears. He had been lying under the table. His tails thwacks off of the furniture as he crawls out.

Kenma shakes his head, but Akaashi says, “That’s up to Lev. I’m not in charge of him.”

“And maybe I can get some peace and quiet with that beast gone,” Kuroo adds.

“We’ll be back soon,” Hinata calls over his shoulder as he opens the door and leads the way out. Lev sticks to his side and Akaashi is reminded of the times he’s traveled with the dog. It makes him glad that he doesn’t have to be the one the dog is glued to. Hinata seems to prefer it anyway. He chatters constantly to Lev and points out things to him, just like he had when Akaashi had gone with them the first time into Dock Hollow. Lev stares up at him, panting, following every word he says. Kenma sticks to Hinata’s other side.

The sky is already darkening in the east, turning rosy in the west. The sunset is particularly orange today, nearly dyeing the very air he breathes. Akaashi didn’t think he had slept that long, but the day is nearly over. This must be a new record for how late he’s slept in. Of course, he’d never had quite as eventful day as yesterday. He thinks he can give himself a bit of sympathy considering.

He watches as Hinata jogs a bit ahead. Lev is the only one to bother keeping up with him. Then, Hinata glances over his shoulder, he sighs, and slows once more. A minute later, he’s repeating the process.

Finally, he exhales loudly, staring hard at Akaashi. “Will you hurry it up? You’re so _slow_.”

Akaashi chuckles at the boy’s enthusiasm. “If you promise to be good, I’ll let you run on ahead and start shopping,” he says, reaching into his pocket for the money. “I’m just going to take a walk. If you get done early, I’ll meet you back at the castle, okay?”

Hinata nods eagerly and holds his hand out for the money.

Instead, Akaashi hands the change to Kenma. “Don’t go crazy,” he warns.

Both nod and Akaashi thinks he can trust them well enough. If not, Kuroo will definitely be after him. Hinata and Kenma run on ahead, or at least Hinata is the one running, towing Kenma behind him. Lev leaps at their side, thrilled at the sudden prospect of running. He nearly collides with those passing by until he starts paying attention to his surroundings.

“Don’t forget the vegetables,” he calls after them, raising a hand to project his voice.

The two boys and the dog don’t turn around or make any other sign that they’ve heard. Akaashi sighs. Those two are hopeless, but not completely unreliable. They better just not come back with a bunch of sweets and pastries for dinner. Akaashi might never be able to trust them with grocery shopping ever again. And Kuroo would definitely never trust him with watching out for them.

He follows after the boys slowly, fists clenched at his side. There’s no distractions, no exhaustion to drag him down. He’s finally clearheaded and his mind definitely has enough to fill itself with. The thoughts bounce around inside his head and he feels a headache coming on. He can’t stop thinking about his late night talk with Kuroo. He wishes he could forget, but no, Kuroo was right. This is something he needs to know. If this is going to be his family now, he needs to understand the predicament they’re facing—that all sorcerers are facing—in this ongoing war.

_“You’re probably not old enough to remember what happened last time. This isn’t the first time magic has been used in a war,” Kuroo had said, “but it might be the first time it will be used to such an extent. Magic was never supposed to be used like this, when it is, it devours the sorcerer. What’s left afterwards—you might as well call it a monster. There’s no controlling it then. The only outcome the King can hope for is that they destroy themselves so he won’t have to be responsible for cleaning up._

_“Sorcerers have been around even longer than the Kingdoms. There’s no history of their beginnings. They’ve just always been around. People used to call them Shepherds and they used to travel everywhere, couldn’t stick to one place. They helped whomever they could in their travels. It was more academic than what you see today. Magic is supposed to be used to help others, not this.”_

_“So kind of like Bokuto does now?” Akaashi asks._

_“Hey, I help, too,” Kuroo snaps airily before his seriousness returns. “But yeah, exactly like that.”_

“Akaashi!”

Akaashi stops in his tracks, whipping his head around, searching for the source of the voice. Other than Hinata and Kenma, no one should know him here in Dock Hollow.

“Up here.”

He glances upward. There, on one of the housetops, not too high up, he spots a figure. He waves down at him. He gives a small wave back until realization hits him and he gasps. “Oh,” he breathes, “Iwaizumi.” He wonders closer, head tilted up with his hand held over his eyes to shade them from those last rays of sunlight. “What’re you doing here?” he calls up.

Iwaizumi doesn’t reply, only waves for Akaashi to join him. Deeply concerned that Oikawa’s—what is he exactly?—that the soldier that he’d met at Oikawa’s is here right now in Dock Hollow, Akaashi has no choice but to join him. The bricks in the building have been built unevenly and he scales them quickly, if a bit messily. His worry only grows the longer he takes. Is Oikawa searching for Bokuto again? Has he found him? Should Akaashi be making a run for it back to the castle instead of being distracted by Iwaizumi? Perhaps that was the plan all along.

He’s gasping for breath by the time he pulls himself up over the edge. Too afraid of falling off, he crawls across the tiles to where Iwaizumi sits. It’s certainly not graceful, but he hardly cares. Rather be careful than worry what Iwaizumi thinks of him. Honestly, he really doesn’t care all that much.

The soldier has his legs stretched out before him. He looks at ease. Certainly he would be more on edge if Oikawa were about, causing his usual mayhem. Akaashi tries to let this thought comfort him as he sits down beside Iwaizumi.

“Why are you here?” he asks right away, not wasting any time. He can’t even hide the accusatory note in his voice.

Iwaizumi chuckles at this. “Oikawa’s in town for some business. I’m on lookout, keeping him out of trouble.” He gives a knowing wink to Akaashi, who can’t quite give such a laidback response. Iwaizumi’s smile falls slightly. “But since you’re here, I suppose that means the Owl is tied to Dock Hollow.”

“What?” Akaashi utters breathlessly, eyes widening. “N-no he isn’t. I just—”

Eyes narrowed, Iwaizumi looks straight at him. That stare alone is enough to cut Akaashi off before he can make up any insane lie to cover his tracks. Iwaizumi blinks and turns his gaze back out over the rooftops. “Relax. It’s not like I’m going to tell him.”

Relieved, Akaashi’s shoulders droop as he feels his heart slowing. “Really?”

Iwaizumi shrugs and says, “Why would I? It’s not like I particularly enjoy _that_ game of hide-and-seek.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Akaashi’s not quite sure what to say. After all, Iwaizumi is barely an acquaintance. He’s sure he hadn’t given the soldier a very good first impression anyway. He studies him out of the corner of his eye. He’s dressed differently than he had been at the castle. It’s an actual uniform, a soldier’s, though nondescript, usually worn in towns like Dock Hollow, without any kind of affiliation. It’s to keep any trouble from brewing, Akaashi assumes. If soldiers strutted about with their kingdom’s emblem for all to see, there would be brawls in the streets. Dock Hollow doesn’t need that.

But that thought brings back the question of Iwaizumi’s career. Akaashi wonders if it would be inappropriate to ask flat out. It’s not like the soldier is saying anything else.

“Why’d you call me up here?” he decides to start off with. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. I recognized you, figured I’d say hi. I wasn’t going to shout down to you,” Iwaizumi replies with a snort.

Akaashi huffs his annoyance. “Yeah well you still made me climb all the way up a building. For what? To say hi?” He rolls his eyes. Typical. Both soldiers and wizards just expect everyone to cater to them. Sure both have jobs serving others, but sometimes they just forget how strenuous it is to be normal. He’s had plenty of experience with soldiers coming into the shop. With wizards, well, he’s had enough of that the last few days. Enough to last a lifetime, though he hardly thinks he’s quite finished with them yet.

“You owe me,” he continues after a brief moment of thought. Most times, you can guilt-trip a soldier into doing just about anything. Of course, that mostly works when their drunk.

This is not something Akaashi knows from experience, but he’s certainly heard enough from Konoha. He hopes it works on levelheaded one like Iwaizumi.

“Huh?” Iwaizumi draws out as he leans back on his arms. “What do you want?”

Taking a deep breath, he braces himself, keeping his face indifferent. “Tell me what a soldier is doing inside a sorcerer’s castle instead of fighting in the war.”

He doesn’t phrase it like a question, not allowing Iwaizumi to get out of answer by just saying no and ignoring it. He’s too curious. Why would the King spare a soldier, especially one as reliable-seeming as Iwaizumi, when such an important war is going on? Especially a war that he intends to sacrifice everything for in order to win. His hands tighten on top of his knees. He can’t stop thinking about those letters he’d seen in that drawer.

Iwaizumi surprises him. He answers Akaashi without even trying to sidestep the question.

“Back when Oikawa was banished, I was assigned to protect him—more like to keep an eye on him, watch him. Coincidentally, we had grown up together as kids, or maybe the King had intended that. I report back to him with what Oikawa is up to and receive orders.”

“So you’re spying on Oikawa then?” Akaashi asks, stunned. “Does he know?”

Iwaizumi lifts an eyebrow in response. “Of course he knows. He’s Oikawa. Even if I hadn’t told him, he would’ve figured out eventually.”

Confused and squinting at Iwaizumi, Akaashi tilts his head to the side. “Then who are you really spying for? On the King?”

“What, are you going to report me?” Iwaizumi asks with a smirk. “My loyalty is not so easily swayed. If the time comes that that loyalty is questioned, I’ll make my decision when that happens. Until then, I remain loyal to both my kingdom as well as my friend.”

Akaashi looks away, down to the tiles beneath his feet. “If we could all be such righteous soldiers and friends,” he mutters under his breath so Iwaizumi doesn’t here, then slightly louder, he says, “I apologize if I offended you.”

The loud laughter that follows causes Akaashi to flinch and look back up at his companion. “Not at all,” Iwaizumi says, patting Akaashi’s shoulder roughly.

There he goes, soldier through and through. Not accounting for the fact that not everyone enjoys being pummeled for fun. Akaashi deadpans back at him; however, he still gives Iwaizumi a half bow from his sitting position.

“Thank you for answering my question,” he says, straightens, and casts a look to the streets not too far down below. He should really take his leave. He wouldn’t want to overstay his welcome. The risks…

“I know this is asking too much,” Iwaizumi starts, interrupting Akaashi’s thoughts, “but I feel I should ask anyway. If you could, please try and forgive Oikawa, or if not, at least to understand the situation he’s in.”

Akaashi sneers slightly at the request. “I would say I’d try, but I’m not sure I can honestly promise that.”

Not the least bit surprised by his answer, Iwaizumi nods seriously. “Please allow me to explain. All you know are rumors, most of which are very far from the truth. If anything, you should know that Oikawa was the only one to finish his apprenticeship under the Royal Sorcerer. He was the only one of three.”

“Yes, Bokuto didn’t finish his and there was a third that also didn’t complete; however I don’t know about that one.”

“The third left. His family moved far away and he went with them. War was happening and no one knew when it would end, so this was very much a betrayal, especially to Oikawa. He had to shoulder all of those responsibilities when he finished his studies, the other two were nowhere to be found.”

Akaashi raises his eyebrows skeptically. “I see,” he says dryly, “nevertheless, that still does not absolve him from his actions.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi bites his remark off before he can sound too angry. Akaashi blinks back at this as the man composes himself. “I know, and on his account I do apologize, deeply. He just thinks this is the only way. After the banishment, how else is he supposed to be accepted again except for being strong enough to face the war himself?”

Shaking his head, Akaashi says, “No on can fight a war on their own. He’s deluded. That’s not sacrifice, it’s being blinded by power.”

Iwaizumi is at a loss for words, but, Akaashi has to admit, he does seem to understand Oikawa’s villainous actions. At least he apologized. Still, that’s not as good as one from Oikawa. A genuine apology. Maybe one that goes with a reverse to this curse.

Not going to happen, but he can still delude himself with happy fantasies instead of the way Oikawa does with thinking strength would be the only way to fix all of his problems.

“Anyway, before I risk another confrontation with him, I will be taking my leave,” he says and starts toward the edge he’d just climbed over. What a waste of time this had been. He could’ve actually enjoyed a nice walk, appreciated the sunset, but no, instead he had to have a frustrating chat with Oikawa’s soldier.

Iwaizumi could practically be considered exiled as well. A banished sorcerer along with his banished solider. How perfect for them, he thinks dryly.

Sighing, Iwaizumi appears to have let the matter go. He’s done all he can. There won’t be persuading someone to see Oikawa’s good side after he cursed him. Iwaizumi just doesn’t understand how inconvenient it is to have your life ruined. Starting over is rough and if Akaashi hadn’t stumbled upon Bokuto’s castle—well he doesn’t know what would’ve happened to him. If he can’t understand that, then Iwaizumi would never be able to comprehend.

“I understand. You should get back to those boys you were with earlier.”

Akaashi freezes mid-crawl back to the edge. He turns wide eyes back on Iwaizumi. “Don’t—” he snarls in warning.

Iwaizumi raises both hands in surrender, gazing back at Akaashi calmly. “I didn’t see anything.”

And Akaashi believes him. He wants to at least, if that can count for anything. Even from their brief meetings, even this only being the second time, Akaashi thinks he can believe Iwaizumi’s word. If he can’t, then he should really consider his people skills—not that he ever had any to begin with. Maybe that ability to read others. Whichever it is, he hopes he can trust Iwaizumi. He’s a good enough guy. If he can’t, then Iwaizumi seeing him here in Dock Hollow will spell ruin for his new family.

He keeps his eyes peeled as he wonders down to the market. The orange hue in the air is slowly dimming. Night is coming. The sun has begun sinking faster and faster with each day. It doesn’t seem to matter that they are further south. Summer has ended and the chillier winds are on the way. Even here. Akaashi can feel it all around him.

The streets are less crowded now. He nears the market and it has nearly emptied. It’s just an open space of cobblestone now. A few carts are still set up, but most are packing up or are already gone. The boys are nowhere to be found. Surely if they were around, he’d at least hear Lev barking, probably making some sort of scene together with Hinata.

How long had he been walking with Iwaizumi? It hadn’t felt very long, but then it was already starting to get late when he first left with Hinata and Kenma. He turns to make his way back to the castle.

Secretly, he eyes everyone he passes, making sure to keep his head down. Oikawa is probably disguised, but better safe than sorry. He keeps an eye out for the sorcerer just in case. He even glances back to the rooftop he’d met Iwaizumi when he passes by it again. It’s empty. Hopefully Iwaizumi and Oikawa have left Dock Hollow for good. Gradually, he feels his pace quickening as he nears the castle. Oikawa might not have known Bokuto was tied to Dock Hollow, but nevertheless he is afraid his sudden visit had something to do with the Owl.

By the time he reaches the door, Akaashi is panting. Taking a deep breath to try and calm his breathing, he opens the door.

Already he can tell something is different. The walls seemed to have closed in significantly, yet apparently without moving physically. It’s darker and colder, too, but stuffy, making it very hard to draw in breath. Akaashi shuts the door and takes a step inside, feeling as though he’s suffocating.

“What’s going on?” he gasps, trying desperately to make his voice sound normal.

Everyone’s here. Maybe that’s why it feels so cramped.

No, something else is definitely going on here. Something magical, but dark. It’s not cold like Oikawa’s castle, but a jittery, nervous kind of darkness. The kind that wraps around your throat with shaking hands as anxiety fills you up to the brim. Akaashi quickly gives a shake of his head to clear it, to get a hold of himself.

Kuroo is on the fireplace, but the fire’s out and he walks back and forth along the edge, fur fluffed out. The ashes have been scattered. A few cling to the cat’s dark fur. This accounts for the lack of lighting. Akaashi’s not quite sure he’s ever seen the place without the fire lit, without light. Hinata and Kenma wait at the bottom of the stairs, fidgeting, as if wondering whether to wait or flee. Kenma holds onto Hinata’s hand tightly. Even Lev is cowering beneath the table. Akaashi just barely spots him there in the dim.

The spectacle that they’re all staring at is Bokuto, pacing about the room, the limited open space in the center. He runs hands through oddly limp hair. He doesn’t look like himself. Akaashi’s so used to seeing him be the exact embodiment of his name, the Owl, with his hair. It’s strange to see it lie wilted on Bokuto’s forehead. His lips tremble with almost silent mumblings. The tension is palpable. Was Oikawa here? Akaashi can’t help but to wonder. They’re all on edge. _Something_ has happened. He dreads what might have caused it. He can feel the air quiver around him. It makes his hair and his feathers all stand on end.

Eyebrows drawn and lips parted in concentration, Akaashi considers what he can do. Panicking and asking too many questions could make everything worse, set them all off. It appears to be a very delicate situation. He could treat it just like any other normal day, but that risks appearing insensitive.

As subtly as he can, he wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs. It’s like trying to diffuse a bomb. Even worse because he has no idea what he’s just walked into.

“Bokuto,” he says calmly with a blank face, refusing to show any of his anxiety and fear. This grabs the Owl’s attention right away. “Your hair is different. Did you do something with it?”

Wrong.

Bokuto practically howls to the ceiling, hands ripping at his hair. “Oh it’s terrible, Akaashi. Terrible! I can’t get it to do anything.”

Okay. Bokuto is self-conscious about his hair, absolutely hates it when it’s not styled, doesn’t want anyone to see him. Akaashi sighs through his nose as he takes a few more steps inside. Alright then. Noted.

He allows himself to calm, just a little. It’s doubtful from his reaction that Oikawa has been here. He’s focused on his hair and while that’s probably a bluff for something else, it doesn’t seem nearly dramatic enough. Besides, if the other sorcerer had been around, Akaashi doubts the castle would still be intact.

Now, how to proceed?

Best to just ask, he figures.

“Alright, Bokuto,” he starts as gently as he can, slowly approaching with his arms raised ever so slightly, like he would with a wounded animal. “What’s the matter?”

“Everything,” Bokuto groans, moving his fists from his hair to his eyes, face all scrunched up. He falls into the chair in front of the hearth and nearly collapses over the back of it as it scrapes to accommodate the sudden weight. Kuroo flinches.

“He just came in like this,” Kuroo explains in a murmur to Akaashi. “I don’t know what set it off.”

Akaashi sighs in relief and slides his eyes over to Kuroo before back to Bokuto, ever wary. “Well it can’t just be over his hair,” he murmurs back. At least it’s not Oikawa, he reminds himself.

Bokuto’s hands drop to his side as he stares up. Stepping closer, Akaashi finds those golden eyes staring blankly, unseeing upward. He grips the rock at his chest with a hand. At least it’s still warm. The temperature just keeps on dropping. He glances around the room.

“Hey, I told you two to go upstairs,” Kuroo snaps, seeing the boys still frozen at the bottom of the stairs.

The house seems to moan around them and everyone’s eyes, except for Bokuto’s, turn to watch the walls sag inward. It’s starting to feel cramped in here and the air is like bricks, dense, and nearly impossible to breathe in. If it’s possible, it grows darker, too, but perhaps that’s because the sun has nearly set completely outside, taking away any chance at natural light.

“What’s wrong with him?” Akaashi asks Kuroo, reclaiming his attention.

Kuroo’s yellow eyes turn back on him, blinking once. “He’s just moody. Probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” He gives a one-sided shrug.

“Moody?” Akaashi repeats incredulously. Before he can inquire further, Hinata pipes up.

“Bokuto gets dejected really easily.”

“Kuroo says it’s because he’s sensitive,” Kenma adds, his voice like an echo to Hinata’s.

An arched eyebrow marks Akaashi’s skepticism. “Oh really?”

This is hardly what he’d call dejected. This is a complete meltdown. It’s certainly not throwing a temper tantrum just because your hair won’t stand up right. Something has happened. Despite his previous worry, this reaction to some unknown event is still troublesome. Perhaps even more so without knowing the cause. Akaashi hasn’t been here long, but he’s at least witnessed Bokuto’s mood swings. This one is definitely verging on the extreme.

“I haven’t seen him get this bad since Kuroo dumped him,” Hinata murmurs, giving the cat a pointed stare.

The castle continues to moan with a whispery wail as Kuroo scoffs. “What, that? It was a mutual decision!”

Winds whip against the side of the building, rattling the windows.

Hinata plants his hands on his hips. “The fire wouldn’t light for at least a week.”

“You weren’t there,” Kenma says in agreement. “We had to eat cold food.”

“ _And_ Bokuto didn’t help us with our lessons.”

Kuroo rubs a paw roughly over his face. “Okay, okay, I get it. My bad.” He turns his attention back to Bokuto, his eyes filled with unease.

With a huff, Akaashi steps forward. This conversation is not going to help Bokuto. If anything, it’s making the situation worse. Whatever this is, at least part of it must be a plea for attention. Therefore, attention is what will start to calm him. “That’s not going to happen this time,” Akaashi announces in a voice filled with the determination he can’t find inside just yet. “Come on, Bokuto. Pull yourself together.”

“I wouldn’t move him—”

Akaashi doesn’t allow Kuroo to finish. Instead, he hauls the Owl to his feet, slinging one of Bokuto’s arms over his shoulders and wrapping one of his own around his waste. “You’re not a child,” he grumbles into Bokuto’s ear, but he keeps his hands gentle as he moves him. Bokuto makes not reply. His head just flops forward and he stares with great intensity at the floor with those unseeing eyes. They’re beginning to make Akaashi’s skin crawl. “I’m taking him upstairs,” he continues louder to the others.

Kenma and Hinata scurry out of his way, staring at him with great big eyes. Kuroo’s tail flicks as he watches as well.

The cat hums thoughtfully, before nodding. “I’m sure I can get the fire going again.” He sets to sweeping the ashes back into place with his tail.

The boys continue to stare up after him, leaning on the railing.

“Oh!” Hinata starts. “Don’t pour cold water on him. He doesn’t like that.”

“He got really upset with us the last time we tried that,” Kenma calls up.

Akaashi rolls his eyes at their antics. “Wasn’t really planning on it,” he tells them over his shoulder.

Okay, so the thought did cross his mind once.

But he wasn’t actually going to do it.

No, Bokuto is having some kind of anxiety caused meltdown. He needs a place to feel safe and secure. With the house growing as cold as it is, he needs to be warm. Akaashi starts up the next set of stairs. Bokuto sure is a lot heavier than he’d expected.

He hefts him up higher to get a better grip, scowl deepening. “You’re nicknamed the Owl. The least you could do is have hollow bones. Help me out here.”

Akaashi doesn’t think about the aspect of being in Bokuto’s room for the first time. The thought doesn’t eve occur to him. His mind is too occupied with keeping Bokuto from crumpling to the ground and then it’s focused on trying to get the door opened without letting go of the Owl. It appears he’s still too dazed to be of any help at the moment. Akaashi tries to find it in himself to forgive Bokuto, but he doesn’t have the energy to work all the way through that conundrum.

It doesn’t hit him until he already as the door swung opened, pushed with a solid kick, and has already taken a few steps inside. Suddenly he comes to a stop. Suddenly the secrets of this room are unleashed to him. Bokuto’s certainly not in his right state of mind to tell him not to and it’s not like Akaashi can just drop him at the door. Bokuto is a mess. Not as much of a mess as he was just minutes ago, but an unresponsive mess nonetheless.

He grasps hold of what will probably be his only opportunity to truly take in Bokuto’s room without any distractions. Of course, Bokuto is still hanging off of his shoulder and is quite the distraction all on his own, but he probably doesn’t mind. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Akaashi is too surprised, too full of wonder, to do anything more than gape at the walls surrounding him.

Like Bokuto had said before, it _is_ a mess, but not like the rest of the house. It would be the perfect definition of a hoarding sorcerer, but it just looks so _normal_ within the castle. If Akaashi had attempted to clean it, he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

It’s a small room, kind of reminding him of his own room back home. Can it even really be called _home_ anymore? It feels so, so long ago since he was there.

He rids himself of thoughts like that. He’s surprised that it’s actually quite cramped. He’d thought a sorcerer like Bokuto would have a lavishing room, especially since he spends so much time up here. Working, sleeping—who new Bokuto liked being surrounded by such mess.

The cramped feeling comes from the walls, which are literally filled with things. Akaashi can’t even take a consensus of what Bokuto has pinned and plastered to his walls, every item is unique and special. Some are letters, written in a fancy scrawl that Akaashi can’t make out with just a mere sweeping glance. Some are pictures, perhaps family portraits, but they are so old and faded. A few are even punctured by darts that must’ve been thrown at them.

A large shelf fits the entirety of the wall facing the door and it’s crammed full with odd trinkets, books—some big and leather-bound, some incredibly thin—and scrolls. There’s a small replica of a ship, a looking glass, several small owl figures all lined up in a row with eyes far too big for their heads.

Ornaments hang down from the ceiling. Pieces of string loop from one end and attach somewhere else. Some are filled with beads, others with knots. A few are made of thicker cord. There is a wind chime above a desk that somehow fits into the mess. It sits on the left wall, opposite of the bed. Beside the desk in the corner is a telescope pointed at the window that’s above the desk; however it appears that cobwebs have dimmed any light from getting inside.

What catches Akaashi’s attention the most are more shimmery rocks like the one on both his and Bokuto’s chests. They align one side of the desk and they hang from cords and string from the ceiling, spinning slowly, throwing off their faint sparkling colors. Bokuto’s room is practically filled with them. Approaching the bed, Akaashi even finds some lined up carefully along the bed frame and the side table. Two larger ones hold a scroll open that has a spell written on it.

A bird’s nest. It’s the closest Akaashi can compare this room to. It’s a mess of odd objects, collected over who knows how many years. With a strange fixation on sparkly and shiny items, a bird’s nest is exactly what it is. Perfectly fit for an Owl.

The bed is covered with a quilt full of many covered patches. It must be fairly old since most of them are beginning to fade. Akaashi wonders how long it sat here with the sunlight on it every day before the cobwebs finally started blocking out the light.

The quilt still seems very warm, Akaashi thinks as he gets Bokuto into bed and tucked under it without too much trouble. His job since living in this castle is to clean it; however, he doesn’t think he’d change a single thing about Bokuto’s room.

It’s fantastic.

There’s too much to see. Akaashi doesn’t think he could ever fall asleep, doesn’t think he could ever even get his eyes to close. They just want to keep looking, taking it everything around him.

But he must leave the room. He can’t stay. With his eyes finally closed, Bokuto needs his rest. His hair is still splattered across his forehead and Akaashi is half tempted to tuck it away and card his fingers back through it. That way it would look almost like his normal style. Maybe that would cheer Bokuto up in some way.

He doesn’t though. He keeps his fingers twisted together in front of him so that they aren’t tempted to touch anything, whether it’s Bokuto or anything else in this room. Turning away, Akaashi makes to leave, craning his neck to take in as much as he can of the room before it is closed to him forever. It’s highly unlikely that Bokuto will allow him in again. Perhaps he’d like it if Akaashi pretended to have never come in at all. He didn’t seem too fond of Akaashi seeing it before.

Before he can take more than a few steps away from the bed, Akaashi feels a hand reach out and grab his wrist. It’s a loose hold, he could pull out of it if he wanted to, but instead, it makes him freeze.

He turns his stare from one particularly pretty rock that shines white in the light to look back over his shoulder. Bokuto’s eyes are still closed, but his hand has slipped out from under the quilt to grab hold of his.

“Yes, Bokuto?” he asks quietly, afraid of speaking too loudly in this room. He turns back slightly to look at him properly. Surely he’s not asleep, but who knows what sorcerers are capable of, even when unconscious. “What is it?”

One of Bokuto’s eyes crack open just barely, but Akaashi can see the gold in it perfectly. In the light, do they shimmer like the rocks? He can’t quite tell that. Not yet. He’d have to get a closer look. He takes a few steps back, still allowing Bokuto’s faint grip around his wrist.

“Don’t go, not yet,” Bokuto says.

While he doesn’t look it, his voice sounds nearly normal, but his face is drained, a bite pale, and sleepy, though Akaashi’s not sure if sleep will solve all of the Owl’s problems.

“Will you stay?” Bokuto continues when Akaashi doesn’t make an immediate reply.

He blinks down at Bokuto, who doesn’t look at him. Both eyes open now, his stare travels past Akaashi’s face and up toward the ceiling. Akaashi wonders if he should. However if Bokuto starts pulling anything like downstairs, Akaashi’s not sure if he’d have the patience to deal with him. He might just make things worse.

On the other hand, staying might be what Bokuto needs. After all, it appears he’s, in a sense, cried himself out, or that his tantrum has tired him out enough to be a bit more rational. That is, if Bokuto could ever be considered rational. Akaashi doubts it.

Even so, he replies, “Yes, Bokuto, I’ll stay if that’s what you want.”

Bokuto nods, like he’s a small child.

Akaashi just hopes he doesn’t actually cry.

A chair leaks up through the floorboards, the only even remotely clear surface in Bokuto’s room. Akaashi steps back, surprised, and Bokuto’s hand falls away. It solidifies next to the bed. Knowing that it’s for him, Akaashi sits down, hands folded as he leans forward on his knees.

Staring at Bokuto for a while, Akaashi’s not sure what he wants to say. Well, it’s Bokuto that wanted him to stick around a while, not him. So, he really shouldn’t be the one with anything on his mind to say to him. Right? Bokuto will speak first.

His leg starts to bounce and he stares at him. He’s over thinking this, but in the silence he can’t help it.

But when Bokuto’s eyes slide close again, Akaashi sighs and figures he will have to be the one to talk first. It’s not like Bokuto can just go to sleep and forget about what had just happened downstairs. He could have. He could have just let Akaashi walk out of the room and gone to sleep. But no, he wanted Akaashi to say. Well, there are consequences to that.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi starts, trying his best to be both gentle and stern at the same time, “your hair is an absolute mess, but I know that’s not what’s bothering you.”

Bokuto huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, but still not opening his eyes. “So?”

“So, tell me what’s wrong.” Akaashi pauses and when Bokuto doesn’t jump to fill it he knows that he’ll have to. Again. “You can’t hide your problems from all of us and then erupt down there like you did. That’s not fair to us. It’s not fair to you. We’re family aren’t we? It’s a two-edged sword. If you want to help us with our problems—” his hand automatically reaches up to tighten around the stone hanging from around his neck “—then you’re going to have to tell us yours.”

His eyes open and he stares up at the ceiling. Akaashi gazes back intently, but the Owl won’t look at him. Those heavy-lidded eyes are far away and Akaashi wonders how fast he has to go to catch up.

“See that?” Bokuto’s arm pulls out from under the quilt and point at the wall over Akaashi’s shoulder.

Akaashi turns around in the chair. It’s one of those documents, fancily scribbled, unreadable from here. It’s punctured with a number of darts and one gold-hilted knife. Eyebrow arched, Akaashi looks back to Bokuto whose eyes are still turned upward. His hand drops back to his side.

“That was the oath I signed when I started my apprenticeship,” Bokuto explains. His voice is oddly dull as he revisits those memories. “It doesn’t matter that I didn’t complete it, I have to report when summoned. The King and the Royal Sorcerer each have a copy. They’re getting antsy with the war.”

“I’ve seen the letters,” Akaashi says flatly.

Bokuto turns his head sideways to look at Akaashi, the movement obscuring his hair even more. Then his gaze drops. “Yeah, I figured.”

Akaashi doesn’t know what to say to this. He looks down at his hands, fingers clasped tightly, twisting. Kuroo’s words are fresh in his mind. He shouldn’t advise Bokuto to go against the King’s demands, but he fears what the outcome might be. So he doesn’t say anything, worrying in silence.

A hand reaches across his vision and settles on top of his. It’s warm. Bokuto is smiling easily at him when he glances up.

“Don’t worry, Akaashi,” he says. “Don’t be afraid. _I’m_ the one that should be terrified.”

“Are you?” The words escape his lips before he can rein it in.

Bokuto’s lips pinch together as he considers the question. “Absolutely,” he replies with a nod. “Why do you think I’ve been hiding all these years?”

“Apparently you weren’t hidden very well.”

“Nope!”

Akaashi watches the hand that still covers his. It tightens and shakes a bit and Akaashi supposes that Bokuto is much more afraid that he is letting on. Besides, if he weren’t, he would have reported weeks ago, when the first letter arrived. Akaashi thinks of Oikawa. If he received even one of those letters, he’d be on the King’s doorstep in seconds. He wonders if the war will get bad enough that the King resorts to that option.

All of a sudden, the hand tightens considerably and Bokuto flies up into a sitting position, eyes bright with new excitement. His head whips around to face Akaashi. “I’ve got it!” he announces loudly. “I’ve come up with a plan.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” Akaashi murmurs, sitting straighter after the surprise.

Now both of Bokuto’s hands are wrapped around his and they drag him closer so that they’re nearly face-to-face. “You’ll go in my place! You’ll say I’m the one who did this to you. That I’m not to be trusted. Might as well banish me like Tooru. Maybe then Suga will leave me alone!”

Akaashi pulls back slightly, stuttering, “What? Who?”

But Bokuto keeps on going. “Hey, hey! It’s perfect!” Once again he’s dragging Akaashi back in, nearly pulling his hands up to his lips. His eyes grow serious as he looks across the backs of Akaashi’s hands. “Please, say you’ll do this for me, Akaashi.”

Eyebrows raised, Akaashi gives a slight shake of his head. “This hardly sounds like a good idea,” he says, his voice low. He sighs. “But if it helps…”

“Ah! Keiji! You’re the best!”

Large arms wrap around him, pulling him in close so that he’s been practically tugged into the bed as well. Bokuto’s victorious hoots boom loud in one ear while the racing beat of his heart fills the other. Akaashi’s too distracted by the breath being squeezed from his lungs and the poorly calculated plan to wonder when Bokuto had started calling him by his first name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So the reason why this chapter was so delayed was because nanowrimo completely ran me into the ground. I don't know what made it so bad this year, but I felt that I lost control with a lot of what I was writing, including this story. That's why I've decided to start planning slower updates. I felt that I was losing its voice and I'm still trying to get back to it. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed every chapter that I've posted, but the writing process has been rough because I kept getting lost. The rest of the story is completely planned out and so I plan to keep working on this, just at a slower pace until I feel a bit more confident. Thank you in advance for your understanding :) Also keep this in mind for my next point. This work is not on hiatus. It is definitely still being worked on.  
> My next note is that I have a lot of stuff planned for December! (but not like nanowrimo because that was just ridiculous, even though I did complete it) These are much more laid-back and stuff I've been planning for a while now. I'm doing a reread and edit of [It Ends With You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6080163/chapters/13936092) and I'm also hoping to start a new fic that I've been working on for a while now.  
> Anyway, I just wanted to keep you guys in the loop as to what I'll be working on :)  
> Feel free to message me here or on my tumblr: [silentmarco](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com/)  
> I always love talking about projects I'm working on ;)


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